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Found in Dainty_Davy.abc from the John Chambers music book abc collection
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DAINTY DAVIE 1806 The lass es fain wad hae frae me, A sang to keep them a' in glee, While ne'er a ane I hae to gie, But on ly Dain ty Da vie. I learn'd it ear ly in my youth, When bar ley ban nocks caus'd a drouth, Whare cro nies met to weet their mouth, Our sang was Dain ty Da vie. O Dain ty Da vie is the thing; I ne ver kent a can ty spring, That e'er de serv'd the High land fling, Sae weel as dain ty Da vie. 2. When friends and fouk at bridals meet, Their drouthy mou's and craigs to weet, The story canna be complete Without they've Dainty Davie. Sae, ladies, tune your spinnets weel, And lilt it up wi' a' your skill, There's nae strathspey, nor Highland reel, Comes up to Dainty Davie. O, Dainty Davie, &c. 3. Though bardies a', in former times, Hae stain'd my sang, wae worth their rhymes! They had but little meuse, wi' crimes, To blast my Dainty Davie. The rankest weeds the garden spoil, When labour taks the play a while; The lamp gaes out for want o' oil, And sae it far'd wi' Davie. O, Dainty Davie, &c. 4. There's ne'er a bar but what's complete, While ilka note is ay sae sweet, That auld and young get to their feet, When they hear Dainty Davie. Until the latest hour o' time, When music a' her pow'r shall tine, Each hill and dale, and grove, shall ring Wi' bonny Dainty Davie. O, Dainty Davie, &c. NOW ROSY MAY COMES IN to the same air 1. Now rosy May comes in wi' flow'rs, To deck her gay green spreading bow'rs, And now come in my happy hours, To wander wi' my Davie. The crystal waters round us fa', The merry birds are lovers a', The scented breezes round us blaw, A-wand'ring wi' my Davie. Meet me at the warlock knowe, Bonny Davie, dainty Davie; There I'll spend the day wi' you, My ain dear dainty Davie. 2. When purple morning starts the hare, To steal upon her early fare, Then through the dews I will repair, To meet my faithful Davie. When day, expiring in the west, The curtain draws o' Nature's rest, I'll flee to's arms I loe the best, And that's my ain dear Davie. Meet me at, &.c. CHARMING CHLOE to the same air 1. It was the charming month of May, When all the flow'rs were fresh and gay, One morning, by the break of day, The youthful, charming Chloe, From peaceful slumber she arose, Girt on her mantle and her hose, And o'er the flow'ry mead she goes, The youthful, charming Chloe. Lovely was she by the dawn, Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe, Tripping o'er the pearly lawn, The youthful, charming Chloe. 2. The feather'd people you might see, Perch'd all around on ev'ry tree, In notes of sweetest melody They hail the charming Chloe: Till painting gay the eastern skies, The glorious sun began to rise; Out-rival'd by the radiant eyes Of youthful, charming Chloe. Lovely was she, &c. LUCKY NANCY to the same air 1. While fops, in saft Italian verse, Ilk fair ane's een and breast rehearse, While sangs abound, and sense is scarce, These lines I have indited: But neither darts nor arrows here, Venus nor Cupid shall appear; And yet wi' these fine sounds, I swear, The maidens are delighted. I was ay telling you, Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy, Auld springs wad ding the new, But ye wad never trow me. 2. Nor snaw wi' crimson will I mix, To spread upon my lassie's cheeks, And syne th' unmeaning name prefix, Miranda, Chloe, or Phillis. I'll fetch nae simile frae Jove, My height o' ecstacy to prove, Nor sighing, thus, present my love Wi' roses eke and lilies. I was ay telling you, &c. 3. But stay, I had amaist forgot My mistress, and my sang to boot, And that's an unco fau't, I wot; But, Nancy, 'tis nae matter: Ye see I clink my verse wi' rhyme, And, ken ye, that atones the crime; Forbye, how sweet my numbers chime. And slide awa like water. I was ay telling you, &c. 4. Now ken, my rev'rend sonsy fair, Thy runkled cheeks and lyart hair, Thy hauf-shut een and hoddling air, Are a' my passion's fuel. Nae skyring gowk, my dear, can see Or love, or grace, or heav'n in thee, Yet thou hast charms enew for me; Then smile, and be na cruel. Leeze me on thy snawy pow, Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy; Dryest wood will eithest low, And, Nancy, sae will ye now. 5. Troth, I hae sung a sang to you, Which ne'er anither bard wad do; Hear then my charitable vow. Dear venerable Nancy! But if the warld my passion wrang, And say ye only live in sang, Ken, I despise a sland'rihg tongue, And sing to please my fancy. Leeze me on, &c. www.abcnotation.com/tunes

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