English

Come here, come here, you freely feed,
An' lay your head low on my knee;
The hardest weird I will you read
That e'er war read to a lady.

O meikle dollour sall you dree,
An' ay the sat seas o['e]r ye'[se] swim,
An' far mair dollour sall ye dree
On East-muir craigs, or ye them clim.

I wot ye 's be a weary wight,
An' releived sall ye never be
Till Kempion the kingis son
Come to the craig and thrice kiss thee.

O meickle dollour did she dree,
An' ay the sat seas o['e]r she swam,

1. Come harken unto me all ye Of God that fearers are,
2. With mouth I cried to him and with My tongue extolled was he.
And what he hath done for my soul To you I will declare.
If in my heart I sin regard, The Lord will not hear me.

3. But God that is most mighty hath
Me heard assuredly;
Unto the voice of my prayer he
Listened attentively.

4. Blest be the mighty God; because
Neither my prayer hath he,
Nor yet his own benignity
Turned away from me.

1. Come, happy children, let us sing In praise of pure cold water,
That gushes forth from well and spring, To every son and daughter.
From river, lake, and mighty sea The clouds on high drink water; Then
Water! bright water! The crystal stream of water; 'Tis
shout aloud, in joyful strains, The praises of cold water.
nature's drink from hand divine; O, then give me cold water.

2. Let others sing in Bacchus' praise;
Its votaries shout with laughter;
The dearest treasure that I hail
Is a cup of sparkling water.

Come gie's a sang, Montgomery cry'd,
And lay your disputes all aside,
What signifies't for folks to chide
 For what was done before them:
Let Whig and Tory all agree,
Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
Whig and Tory all agree,
  To drop their Whig-mig-morum;
Let Whig and Tory all agree
To spend the night wi' mirth and glee,
And cheerfu' sing alang wi' me
  The Reel o' Tullochgorum.

O' Tullochgorum's my delight,
It gars us a' in ane unite,
And ony sumph that keeps a spite,

Come, gentlemen Tories, firm, loyal, and true,
Here are axes and shovels, and something to do!
For the sake of our King,
Come labor and sing.
You left all you had for his honor and glory,
And he will remember the suffering Tory.
We have, it is true,
Some small work to do;
But here's for your pay, twelve coppers a day,
And never regard what the rebels may say,
But throw off your jerkins and labor away.

To raise up the rampart, and pile up the wall,
To pull down old houses and dig the canal,

Of one that is so fair and bright,
Velud maris stella,
Brighter than the dayes light,
Parens et puella,
Ich crie to thee; thou see to me!
Levedy, pray thy Sone for me,
Tam pia,
That ich mote come to thee,
Maria.

Levedy, flowr of alle thing,
Rosa sine spina,
Thou bere Jesu, Hevene-King,
Gratia divina.
Of alle thou berst the pris,
Levedy, quene of Paraÿès

Come forth from thy oozy couch,
 O Ornithorhyncus dear!
And greet with a cordial claw
 The stranger that longs to hear

From thy own lips the tale
 Of thy origin all unknown:
Thy misplaced bone where flesh should be
 And flesh where should be bone;

And fishy fin where should be paw,
 And beaver-trowel tail,
And snout of beast equip'd with teeth
 Where gills ought to prevail.

Come, Kangaroo, the good and true!
 Foreshortened as to legs,
And body tapered like a churn,

Come follow, heart upon your sleeve,
— The trail, a-teasing by,
Past tasseled corn and fresh-mown hay,
— Trim barns and farm-house shy,
Past hollyhocks and white well-sweep,
— Through pastures bare and wild,
Oh come, let's fare to the heart-o'-the-wood
— With the faith of a little child.

Strike in by the gnarled way through the swamp
— Where late the laurel shone,
An intimate close where you meet yourself
— And come unto your own,
By bouldered brook to the hidden spring

A HISTORICAL CENTENNIAL BALLAD

I

Come, fill the beaker, while we chaunt a pean of old days:
By Mars! no men shall live again more worthy of our praise,
Than they who stormed at Louisburg and Frontenac amain,
And shook the English standard out o'er the ruins of Duquesne.

For glorious were the days they came, the soldiers strong and true,
And glorious were the days, they came for Pennsylvania, too;

1. Come, every soul by sin oppressed, There's mercy with the Lord;
2. For Jesus shed his precious blood Rich blessings to bestow;
And he will surely give you rest, By trusting in his word.
Plunge now into the crimson flood That washes white as snow.
Only trust him, only trust him, Only trust him now;
He will save you, he will save you, He will save you now.

3. Yes, Jesus is the truth, the way,
That leads you into rest;
Believe in him without delay,
And you are fully blest.
Chorus