"■  ■  J  i  ■ 

0reen  grows  the  Rashes, 

CHORUS. 

'i   Green  grow  the  rashes,  0  f 
'  .  /  I      Green  grow  the  rashes,  0! 

'  ■  The  sweetest  hours  that  e'er  I  spend 
Are  spent  amang  the  lasses,  O I 

There's  nought  but  care  on  ev'rj  hau*, 

In  every  hour  that  passes,  0  : 
What  signifies  the  life  o'  man. 

An  'twerna  for  the  lasses,  0. 

The  warly  race  may  richies  chase,  , 
\  And  riches  still  may  fly  them,  0  ;     /  > 
^nd  tho*  at  last  they  catch  them  fast,     \  ^  c  ^  ' 
'  /  Their  hearts  can  ne'er  enjoy  them,  OA  ' 

=    .  /( 

But  gie  me  a  canny  hour  at  e'en, f 

My  aritis  about  my  dearie,  O  ; 
And  war*ly  cares,  and  wnr*ly  men, 

May     gae  tapsalteerie,  0. 

•^For  you  sae  douce,  ye  sneer  at  this,      )  }  „ 
Ye're  nought  but  senseless  a?ses,  O: 

The  wis&st  map  the  warF  e'er  say. 
He  dearly  iov*d  the  lasses,  O.  .   

Auld  Nakire  swears,  the  lovely  dc^^,.  ^ 

Her  noblest  work'  she  classes,  O ; 
Her  prentice  ban'  she  tried  on  man. 
And  then  she  made  the  lasses. 


3^ 


There  was  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle. 

There  was  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle, 
But  whatna  day  o'  whatna  style, 
I  doubt  it's  hardly  worth  the  while 
To  be  sae  nice  wi'  Kobin. 

Robin  was  a  rovin'  boy, 

Raiitin'  roving  rantin'  rovili*; 

Robin  was  a  rovin'  boy, 
Rantin'  rovin  Robin'1 

Our  monarch's  hindmost  year  but  an%. 
Was  five-and-twenty  days  begun, 
'  Twas  then  a  blast  o'  J anwar"  win' 
Blew  hansel  in  on  Eobin. 

The  gossip  keekit  in  his  loof. 

Quo  she,  wha  lives  will  see  the  proof, 
This  waly  boy  will  be  nae  coof ; 

I  think  we  il  ca'  him  RobiD. 

He'll  hae  niisfortunes  great  and  sma', 
Btit  aye  a  heart  iiboon  them  a' ; 
JJe'll  be  a  credit  till  us  a'— 
Well  a'  be  proud  o'  Robin. 

But  sure  as  three  times  three  mak  nine, 
I  see  by  ilka  score  and  line, 
This  chap  will  dearly  like  our  kin  V 
So  iec^d  me  on  theer  Robin>  - 


My  Nannie,  O. 

Behind  yon  hills  where  Lugar  flows, 
'Mang  moors  and  mosses  n;iany,  0, 

The  Wintry  sun  the  day  has  clos'di*    'yt'jd  k 
And  ril  awa  to  Nannie,  0.     ^  -  t^^:T 

The  westlin  winds  blaws  loiid  and  sbiH  ;  ^ 
The  night's  baith  mirk  and  rainy,  O  ; 

But  I'll  get  my  plaid,  and  oiit  Til  ste^. 
And  owre  the  hills  to  Nannie,  0. 

My  Nannie's  charming,  sweet,  and  youpg  ; 

Nae  artfu'  wiles  to  win  ye,  6': 
May  ill  befa'  the  flattering  tongue 

That  wad  beguile  my  Nannie,  0. 

Her  face  is  fair,  her  heart  is  true. 
As  spotless  as  she's  bonnie,  0  ; 

The  opening  gowan,  wet  wi'  dew, 
Nae  purer  is  than  Nannie,  0, 

A  Goutitry  lad  is  my  degree. 

And  few  there  be  that  ken  me,  0  ; 

But  what  care  I  how  few  there  be  ? 
Vm  welcome  aye  to  Nannie,  0. 

My  riches  a's  my  penny-fee, 
And  I  maun  guide  it  cannie,  G  ; 

But  warld's  gear  ne'er  troubles  me,  * 
My  thoughts  are  a'  my  Nannie,  0. 

Our  auld  guidman  delights  to  view 

His  sheep  and  kye  thrive  bonnie,  O,  . 

But  Vm  as  blythe  that  bauds  his  pleu§b, 
And  has  nae  care  but  Nannie.  0. 


5 


Come  well,  come  woe,  I  cai'e  nao  by, 

I'll  tak  wliat  Heav'tt  will  senW,  0;       .4  ^ 

Nae  ifter  cafe  in  life  have  T,  '    ■  '  '-^ 

But  live,  and  love  mj  Nannie,  0. 


Kenmure's  on  and  awa. 

Oh  Kenmure's  on  and  awa,  Willte  ! 

Oh  Kenmure's  on  and  awa ! 
And  Kenmiire's  lord's  the  bravest  lord, 

That  ever  Gallow^ay  saw. 

Success  to  Kenmure's  hand,  Willie  ! 

Success  to  Kenmure's  band  ; 
There's  no  a  heart  that  fears  a  Whig, 

That  rides  by  Kenmure's  hand. 

Here's  Kem urea's  health  in  wine,  W^illie ! 

Here's  Kenmure's  health  in  wine  ; 
There  ne'er  was  a  coward  o**  Kenmure's  blade, 

Nor  yet  o'  Gordon's  line. 

Oh  Kenmure's  lads  are  men,  Willie  ! 

Oh  Kenmure's  lads  are  men, 
Tliere  hearts  and  swords  are  metaj.  true, 

And  that  their  foes  shall  keu. 

They'll  live  or  die  wi"*  fame,  Willie! 

Thee '11  live  or  die  wi*  fame. 
But  soon,  wi'  sounding  victorie. 

May  Kenmure's  lord  come  hame. 

Here's  him  thafs  far  awa,  Willie ! 

Here^s  him  that's  far  awa ! 
And  here's  the  flower  that  I  loya  ^est^ 

The  rose  ths^t's  like  th^  ^awr 


O'  a'  tlie  airts  the  Wind  can  biaw, 

0'  a'  the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw, 

I  deai'ly  like  the  west, 
For  there  the  bonnie  lassie  lives, 

The  kssie  I  loe  best : 
There  wild  woods  grow,  and  rivers  row, 

And  raonj  a  hill  between  ; 
Bui  daj  and  night  my  fancy  s  flight 

Is  ever  wi'  my  Jean. 

I  see  her  in  the  dewy  flowers, 

I  see  her  sweet  and  fair : 
I  hear  her  in  the  tunefu^  birds, 

I  hear  her  charm  the  air : 
There's  not  a  bonnie  flower  that  springs 

By  fountain,  shaw,  or  green, 
There's  not  a  bonnie  bird  that  sings, 

But  minds  me  o'  my  Jean. 

Oh  blaw,  ye  westlin'  winds,  blaw  saft 

Amang  the  leafy  trees, 
Wi*  balmy  oale,  frae  hill  and  dale 

Bring  hame  the  laden  bees  ; 
^nd  bring  the  lassie  back  to  me 

That's  aye  sae  neat  and  clean  ; 
Ae  smile  o*  her  wad  banish  care, 

Sae  charming  is  my  Jean. 

What  sighs  and  vows  amang  the  knowes 

Hae  passed  at  ween  us  twa! 
How  fond  to  meet  how  wae  to  part. 

That  night  she  gaed  awa  ! 
The  powers  aboon  can  only  ken. 

To  whom  the  heart  is  seen, 
That  nane  ean  be  sae  dear  to  mo 

As  my  sweet  lovely  Jean  ? 
Ana  has  nae  care  but  JNannie.  u. 


Tor  a'  tliat  and  a'  that. 


Is  there,  for  honest  povertv, 

That  hangs  his  head,  and  a'  -hat? 
The  coward  slave  we  pass  him  bj. 

We  dare  be  poor  for  a'  that ! 
For  a*  that,  and  a'  that, 

Our  toils  obscure,  and  a'  that, 
The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stanp. 

The  man's  the  gowd  for  a'  that 

What  tho'  on  hamelj  fare  we  dine, 

Wear  hoddin  ^^raj  and  a'  that, 

A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that. 
Crie  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  the  wine. 
For  a'  that,  and  a  that, 

Their  tinsel  show  and  a'  that ; 
The  honest  man,  though  e'or  sae  poor. 

Is  king  o'  men  for  a*  that. 

Yu  see  yon  birkie,  ca'd  a  lord, 

Wha  struts,  and  staros,  and  a'  that ; 
The'  hundreds  worship  at  his  word, 

He's  but  a  coof  for  a'  that : 
For  a'  that  and  a'  that, 

His  riband,  star,  and  a'  that. 
The  man  of  independent  mind 

He  looks  and  laughs  at  a'  that. 

A  prince  can  mak'  a  belted  knight, 

A  marqnis,  duke,  and  a'  that  ; 
But  an  honest  man^s  aboon  his  might, 

Guid  faith  he  maunna  fa'  that. 
For  a'  that  and  a*  that, 

Their  dignities,  and  a*  that. 
The  pith  o'  sense,  and  pride  o'  worth, 

Are  higher  ranks -than  a'  that. 


8 


Then  l^tf'^us  pray  tlmt  come  it  may, 

As  come  it  will  for  a'  that 
That  sense  and  worth,  o'er  a'  the  earth, 

Maj  bear  the  gree,  and  a'  that. 
For  a'  that,  ai;id  a*  that, 

It's  coming  yet  for  a'  that. 
That  man  to  man,  the  world  o'er, 

Should  brothers  be  for  a'  that. 


Blythe  was  she. 

CHORUS. 

Blythe,  blyihe  and  merry  was  she 
Blythe  w^as  she  butt  and  ben  : 

Blythe  by  the  banks  of  Em, 
And  blythe  in  Glenturit  glen. 

By  Auchtertyre  grows  the  aik, 

On  Yarrow  banks  the  birken  shaw  ; 

But  Phemie  was  a  bonnier  lass 
Than  braes  o'  Yarrow  ever  saw. 

Her  looks  were  like  a  flow'r  in  May, 
Her  smile  was  like  a  simmer  morn  ; 

She  tripped  by  the  banks  o'  Ern, 
As  light's  a  bird  upon  a  thorn. 

Her  bonnie  face  it  was  as  meek 

As  ony  lamb  upon  a  lea  ; 
The  evening  sun  was  ne'er  sae  sweet 

As  was  the  blink  o'  Phemie's  ee. 

The  Highland  hills  Fve  wander 'd  wide. 
And  o'er  the  lowlands  I  have  been  ; 

But  Phemie  was  the  bly thest  lass 
That  ever  trod  the  dewy  green. 

And  has  nae  care  but  JNanme.  u. 


To  Mary  in  Heaven. 

Thou  lingering  star,  with  lessening  raj, 

That  lovest  to  greet  the  early  moru^ 
Again  thoti  usherest  in  the  day 

My  Mary  from  my  soul  was  torn, 
oil  Mary  !  dear  departed  shade  ! 

Where  is  thy  place  of  bliiisful  rest  f 
Seest  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid  ? 

Hear'st  thou  the  groans  that  rend  his  breats  I 

That  sacred  hour  can  I  forget, 

Can  I  forget  the  hallowed  grove, 
Where  by  the  winding  Ayr  we  met, 

To  live  one  day  of  parting  love  ! 
Eternity  will  not  efface 

Those  records  dear  of  transports  past ; 
Thy  image  at  Our  last  embrace, 

Ah  !  little  thought  we  'twas  our  last ! 

Ayr,  gurgling,  kissed  his  pebbled  shore, 

O'erhung  with  wild  woods,  thiek'ninggreem 
The  fragrant  birch,  and  hawthorn  hoar, 

Twined  amorous  round  the  raptured  scene  : 
The  flowers  sprung  wanton  to  be  pressed. 

The  birds  sang  love  on  every  spray; 
Till  too,  too  soon,  the  glowing  west 

Proclaimed  the  speed  of  wmged  day. 

Still  o'er  ti'iese  scenes  my  memory  wakes, 

And  fondly  broods  with  miser  carfe  ; 
Time  biit  the  impression  stronger  makes. 

As  streams  their  channles  deeper  wear. 
My  Mary,  deat  departed  shade  I 

Where  is  thy  place  of  blissful  rest? 
Seest  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid  ? 

Hear'st  thou  the^rOans  that  rend  hisbreast  ? 


10 

The  Banks  o'  Doon. 

Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonny  Doon, 

How  can  ye  bloom  sae  fresh  and  fair ; 
How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds, 

And  I  sae  weaiy  fu'  o'  care ! 
Thoult  break  my  heart;  thou  warbling  bird 

That  wantons  thro'  the  flowering  thorn 
Thou  mind.s  me  o' departed  joys. 

Departed — never  to  return  ! 

Aft  hae  I  roved  by  bonnie  Boon, 

To  see  the  rose  and  woodbine  twine  ; 
And  ilka  bird  sang  o*  its  luve, 

And  fondly  sae  did^I  o'  mine. 
TVi'  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose, 

Fu*  sweet  upon  its  thorny  tree ; 
And  my  fause  luvcr  stole  my  rose, 

But,  ah  !  he  left  the  thorn  to  me. 


The  Cardin'  O't. 

I  coFT  a  stane  o*  haslock  v/dS^^  b 
To  make  a  wat  to  Johnny  o*t  ; 
For  Johnny  is  my  only  jo, 
I  loe  him  best  of  ony  yet. 

The  cardin'  o't,  the  spinnin'  o% 

The  warpin'  o't,  the  winnin'o't 
When  ilka  ell  cost  me  a  ^jroat, 
The  tailor  staw  the  lininVo't. 

For  though  his  lock  be  lyart  grey  J 
And  though  his  brow  be  bald  aboon ; 

Yet  .1  hae  seen  him  on  a  day, 
The  pride  of  a*  the  pa,rishea. 


11 

Highland  Mary. 

Y6  banks,  and  braes,  and  streams  arouhd^" 

The  castle  o'  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  woods,  and  fair  your  flower«, 

Your  waters  never  drumlie. 
There  simmer  first  unfauld  ber  robes, 

And  there  the  langest  tarry  ; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fareweel 

0  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

How  sweetly  bloomed  the  gay  green  birk, 

How  rich  the  hawthorn's  blossom. 
As  underneath  their  fragrant  shade, 

1  clasped  her  to  my  bosom. 
The  golden  lioui'S,  on  angel  wings, 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie ; 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life. 
Was  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

Wi'  many  a  vow,  and  lock'd  embrace^ 

Our  parting  wa.^  fu*  tender  ; 
Arid,  pledging  aft  to  meet  again, 

We  tore  oursels  asunder  ; 
But  oh  I  fell  death's  untin^ely  frost, 

That  nipt  my  flower  sae  early ! 
Now  green's  the 'Sod,  and  cauld's  the  clay, 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary ! 

Oh  pale,  pale  now,  those  rosy  lips, 

I  aft  hae  kiss' d  sae  fondly  ! 
And  closVl  for  aye  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwelt  on  me  sae  kindly  ; 
And  mouldriiig  now  in  silent  dust 

That  heart  that  loe'd  me  dearly !        :  r 
But  still  within  my  bosom *s  core 

Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary, 


rr 


I  hae  a  Wife  o'  my  ain. 

I  hae  a  wife  o'  my  aiii— 

lil  partake  wi'  naeoody ; 
ni  tak'  cuckold  frafe  ti^rie, 

I'll  ^ie  cuckold  to  naebody. 
I  hae  a  penny  to  spend, 

There— tl^anks  to  iiiae;bp(iy^^^ 
I  hae  nathiiig  to  lend, 

J?ll  borrow  f rae  naebody. 
I  am  naebody's  lord^ — 

ril  be  slave  to  naebody ; 
I  hae  aguid  bri^id  sword, 

ril  tak  dunts  frae  naebody. 
ril  be  merry. and  free,^  '^'  '  '  ^ 

111  be  s^d  for  n  ^ 
If  naebody  care  for  me, 

I'll  care  for  naebody. 

Up  in  the  Morning  early  • 

CHORUS. 

Up  in  tlie  morning's  no  for  .nae, 

Up  in  the  morning  earlj^;.  ^.^^  jo  .  ^  - 

When  a'  the  hills  are  cover'd  wx*inaw, 
I'm  sure  its  winter  fairly. 

Cauld  blaws  the  wind  frae  casito  west, 

The  drift  is  driving  sairly ;  : 
Sae  loud  and  shrill  I  hear  the  blast, 

I'm  siite  its  winter  fairly.     J (  ii^ 
The  blinds  sit  chitteriitg  in  th4&  t!bJwii^ 

A '  day  th  ey  fare  but  sparely ; 
And  lang'ithe  night  frae  e^en  to  inbrn — 

I'm  sure  it's  winter  fairly. 


13 

The  Rigs  o*  Barley. 

It  was  upon  a  Lammas  night, 

When  corn  rigs  are  bonnie, 
Beneath  the  moon's  unclcuded  light, 

I  hied  awa'  to  Annie  : 
The  time  flew  hy  wi'  tentless  heed, 

Till  'tween  the  late  and  early, 
Wr  sma'  persuasion  she  agreed 

To  see  me  through  the  barley. 

The  sky  was  blue,  the  wind  was  still, 

The  moon  was  shining  clearly  ; 
I  set  her  down  wi'  right  good  will 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley ; 
I  kenned  her  heart  was  a*  my  ain ; 

rioved  her  most  sincerely  ; 
I  kissed  her  owre  and  owre  again, 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley. 

I  locked  her  in  my  fond  embrace  ; 

Her  heart  was  beating  rarely  ; 
My  blessipgs  on  that  happy  place, 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley  ! 
But  by  the  moon  and  stars  so  bright, 

That  shone  that  hour  so  clearly  ! 
She  aye  shall  bless  that  happy  night, 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley. 

I  hae  been  blythe  wi'  comrades  dear  ; 

I  hae  been  merry  drinkiu** ; 
I  hae  been  joyfu'  gatherin'  gear  ; 

I  hae  been  happy  thinkin' ; 
But  a'  tjie  pleasures  e'er  I  saw, 

Though  three  times  doubled  fairly, 
That  happy  night  was  worth  them  a\ 

Amang  the  rigs  0'  barlev. 


14 


ru  aye  ca'  in  by  yon  Town. 

ril  ays  ca'  in  by  yon  town, 

And  by  yon  garden  green,  again  ; 
ril  aye  ca' in  by  yon  town, 

And  see  my  bonnie  Jean  again.   ,  i 
There's  nane  sail  ken,  there's  nane  sail  gucs«, 

What  brings  me  back  the  gate  again. 
But  she,  my  fairest  faitlifii'  lass, 

And  stowlins  we  sail  meet  again- 

She'll  w'ander  by  the  aiken  tree.      ^  y 

When  trystin  time  draws  near  again ; 
And  w^hen  her  lovely  form  I  see, 

Oh  haith,  she's  double  dear  again! 
I'll  aye  ca*  in  by  yon  town, 

And  by  yon  garden  green,  again;  ' 
ril  aye  ca*  in  by  yon  town, 

And  see  my  bonnie  Jean  again. 


Sweetest  May. 

Sw'EETEST  May,  let  love  inspire  thee  ; 
Take  a  heart  which  he  desires  thee'l 
As  thy  constant  slave  regard  it ; 
For  its  faith  and  truth  reward  it. 

Proof  o' shot  to  birth  or  money, 
Not  the  wealthy  but  the  bonnie ; 
J5ot  high-born,  but  noble-m'nded. 
lu  love'ssilken  band  can  bind  it. 


15 

Syne. 

Should  anld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  iiever  brouglit  to  mind  ? 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot. 

And  days  o*  lang  sync  ? 

CHORUS. 

For  auld  lang  syne,  my  dear. 

For  auld  lang  syne, 
We'll  tak*  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet, 

For  auld  lang  syne. 

We  tvva  hae  run  about  the  braes, 

And  puVl  the  gowans  fine  ; 
But  weVe  wander 'd  mony  a  wea^y  foot, 

§in'  auld  lang  syne. 

We  tvva  hae  paidled  in  the  burn, 

Frae  mornin'  sun  till  dine ; 
But  seas  between  us  braid  hae  roar'd, 

Sin'  auld  lang  syne. 

And  here's  a  hand,  my  trusty  frien', 

And  gie's  a  hand  o'  thine  ; 
And  well  tak'  a  right  guid  willie-wau^ht, 

For  auld  lang  syne. 

And  surely  yeil  be  your  pint-stoup, 

And  surely  Fll  be  mine  ; 
And  we'll  tak'  a  cup  o'  kindness  yetj 

For  auld  lang  syne. 


16 


The  Gallant  Weaver. 

Where  Cart  rins  rowin'  to  the  sea. 
By  mony  a  flower  and  spreading  tree, 
There  lives  a  lad,  the  lad  for  me,  . 
He  is  a  gallant  weaver. 

Oh,  I  had  wooers  aught  or  nine, 
They  gied  me  rings  and  ribbons  fiiie  ; 
And  I  was  feared  my  heart  would  tire. 
And  I  gied  it  to  the  weaver. 

My  daddie  signed  my  tocher-barid, 
To  gie  the  lad  that  has  the  land ; 
But  to  my  heart  I'll  add  my  hand, 
And  gie  it  to  the  weaver. 

While  birds  rejoice  in  leafy  bowers  ; 
While  bees  rejoice  in  opening  flowers 
While  corn  grows  green  in  simmer  showers 
I'll  love  my  gallant  weaver. 


Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee. 

Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee. 

Or  Geordie  on  his  ocean  ? 
Dyvor,  beggar  louns  to  me, 

I  reign  in  Jeanie*s  bosom. 

Let  her  crown  my  love  her  law, 
And  in  her  breast  enthrone  me : 

Kings  and  nations,  swith,  awa ! 
Reif  randies,  I  disown  ye ! 


Flow  gently.  Sweet  Afton. 

'  w  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  brp-es, 
'  w  gently,  Til  sing  thee  a  s5ong  in  thy  praise ; 

Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmuring  stream, 
^  urgently,  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  h^.r  dream. 

)u  Ftock  dove  whose  echo  resounds  thro'  the  glen 
qmld  whistling  blackbirds  in  yon  thorny  den, 
m  green-crested  lapwing  thy  screaming  forbear, 
large  you  disturb  not  my  slumbering  fair. 

w  lofty,  sweet  Afton,  thy  neighbouring  hills, 
marked  with  the  courses  of  clear  winding  rill ; 
ere  daily  I  wander  as  noon  rises  high, 
flocks  and  my  Mary's  sweet  cot  in  my  eye. 

pleasent  thy  banks  and  green  vallies  below, 
lere  wild  in  the  woodlands  the  primroses  blow  ; 
3re  oft  as  mild  evening  weeps  over  the  lea, 
sweet-scented  birk  shades  my  Mary  and  me. 

|y  crystal  stream,  Afton,  how  lovely  it  glides, 
Id  winds  by  the  cot  where  my  Mary  resides  ; 
Iw  wanton  thy  waters  her  snowy  feet  lave, 
gathering  sweet  flowerets  she  stems  thy  clear 
wave. 

5w  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  tke  green  braes, 
3w  gently,  sweet  river,  the  theme  of  my  lays  ; 
f  Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmuring  stream, 
ow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream. 


18 


My  love  she's  but  a  lassie  yet. 

My  love  she's  hut  a  lassie  yet, 

^ly  love  she  s  but  a  lassie  yet, 
We'll  let  her  stand  a  year  or  twa, 

She'll  no  be  half  sae  saucy  yet, 
I  rue  the  day  I  sought  her  O, 

I  rue  the  day  I  sought  her,  O  ; 
Wha  gets  he  needs  na  say  she's  wooed. 

But  he  may  say  he's  bought  her,  O ! 

Come,  draw  a  drap  o'  the  best  o't  yet, 

Come,  draw  a  drap  o'  the  best  o't  yet ; 
Oae  seek  for  pleasure  where  ye  will, 

Rut  here  I  never  missed  it  yet. 
WeVe  a'  dry  wi' d. inking  o't, 

We're  a'  dry  wl'  drinking  o't; 
The  minister  kissed  the  fiddler's  wite, 

And  could  na  preach  for  thinking  o't> 

The  Weary  Pmid  oVTow. . 

The  weary  pund,  the  weary  pund, 

The  weary  pund  o*  tow  ; 
I  think  my  wife  will  end  her  lifs 

Before  she  spin  her  tow. 

I  BOUGHT  my  wife  a  stane  o'  iint 

As  guid  as  e'er  did  grow  ; 
And  a'  that  she  has  made  o'  that, 

la  ae  poor  pund  o'  tow. 


19 


There  sat  a  bottle  in  a  bole, 

Beyont  the  ingle  lowe, 
And  aye  she  took  the  thither  souk, 

To  (Irouk  the  stowrie  tow. 

Quoth  I,  for  shame,  ye  dirty  dame, 
Gae  spin  your  tap  o'  tow ! 

She  took  the  rock,  and  wi'  a  knock 
She  brak  it  o'er  my  pow. 

At  last  her  feet,  I  sang  to  see't, 
Gaed  foremost  o'er  the  knowo  ; 

And  or  I  wed  anither  jad. 
I'll  wallop  in  a  tow. 


Bannocks  o'  Barley. 

Bannock's  o'  bear  meal, 
Bannock's  o**  barley  ; 
j  Kerens  to  the  Higblandmairs 

BaTinocks  o'  barley. 
^Wba  in  a  brulzie 

Will  fir-^t  cry  a  parley  ? 
Never  the  lads  wr 

The  bannocks  o'  barlej  ! 

Bannocks  o'  bear  meal, 
Bannocks  o'  barley  ; 
Here's  to  the  lads  wi' 

The  bannocks  o'  barley  ! 
Wha  in  bis  wae-days 
^     WVre  loyal  to  Charlie  ? 
Wba  but  the  lads  wi' 
;  Tl)£._bannpcks  o;  barley  ? 


20 


A  Red  Red  Rose. 

Oh,  my  love's  like  a  red,  red  roso, 

That's  newly  sprung  in  June: 
Oh,  my  love's  like  the  melodie, 

That's  sweetly  played  in  tune. 
As  fair  art  thou  my  bonnie  lass, 

So  deep  m  love  am  1 : 
And  I  will  love  thee  still,  my  dear, 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry. 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry,  my  dear, 

And  the  rocks  melt  wi'  the  sun  ; 
I  will  love  thee  still,  my  dear, 

While  the  sands  o'  life  shall  ruh: 
And  fare  thee  weel,  my  only  love ! 

And  fare  thee  weel  a  while ! 
And  I  will  come  again,  my  love, 

Though  it  w^ere  ten  thousand  mile. 


Fairest  maid  on  Devon  banks. 

Fairest  maid  on  Devon  banks, 
Crystal  Devon,  winding  Devon, 

Wilt  thou  lay  that  frown  aside. 

And  smile  as  thou  were  wont  to  do  ? 

Full  well  thou  know^st  I  love  thee  dear, 
Coiild'st  thou  to  malice  lend  an  ear  ? 
Oh,  did  not  love  exclaim  "  Forbear, 
Foruse  a  faithful  lover  so  !** 

Then  come,  thou  fairest  of  the  fair, 
Thoae  wonted  smiles,  oh  let  me  share ! 
And,  by  thy  beauteous  self  I  swear. 

No  love  but  thine  my  heart  shall  know. 


21 


Jolin  Anderson,  my  j®- 

PARTLY  BURNs'S. 

John  Andersen  my  jo,  John, 
I  wonder  what  you  mean, 
To  rise  sae  early  in  the  morn, 

And  sit  so  late  at  e'en ; 
Yell  blear  out  a'  your  e'en,  John, 

And  why  should  you  do  so  ? 
Gang  sooner  to  your  bed  at  e'en, 
John  Anderson  my  jo. 

John  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 
When  Nature  first  began 
To  try  her  canny  han',  John, 

 Her  master-piece  was  man ; 

Alnd  you  amang  them  a',  John, 

Sae  trig  from  top  to  toe, — 
She  proved  to  be  nae  journeyman, 
John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

John  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 

Ye  were  my  first  conceit, 
And  ye  needna  think  it  strange,  John, 

That  I  ca'  ye  trim  an'  neat ; 
Though  some  folks  say  ye're  auld,  John 

I  never  think  ye  so, 
But  I  think  ye  re  aye  the  same  tO  me, 
John  Anderson  my  jo. 


Jolm  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 

We've  seen  our  bairns*  bairns, 
And  yet,  my  dear  John  Anderson, 

Tm  happy  in  your  arms; 
And  sae  areye  in  mine,  John^ 

I'm  sure  ye'U  ne'er  say  No, 
Tho'  the  days  are  gane  that  wa  hae  s^?n, 

John  Anderson  my  jo. 

John  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 

We  clamb  the  hill  thegither, 
And  mony  a  canty  day,  John, 

We've  had  wi'  ane  anither  ; 
Now  we  maun  totter  down,  John, 

Bnt  hand  in  hand  we'll  go. 
And  sleep  thegither  at  the  foot, 

John  Anderson  my  jo. 

Come  boat  me  o'er  to  Qliarlie. 

Come  boat  me  o'er,  come  row  me  o'er, 

Come  boat  me  o'er  to  Charlie  ; 
I'll  gie  Jobii  Ross  another  bawbee, 
To  boat  mo  o'er  to  Charlie. 
We'll  o"er  the  w'der  and  o  er  the  sea, 

We'll  o'«^r  the  water  lo  Charlie  ; 
Come     al,.  ccome  woe,  we'll  gather  and  go, 
And  live  or  die  for  Charlie. 

loe  well  itiy  Charhc'is  Daioe, 

Thoiicru  some  there  be  abhor  him  ;  - 
Bat  oh,  to  Hie  auhl  Nick:  gaim  bame, 

And  (  Vi^u  iio'b  fot'S  be^rediinnl 
I  swear  ■■.j'vl  vow  by  moon  and  stars. 

And  :v.,::'  'hat  sliines  so  earl/, 
K  I  li^i  -     oiity  tliau^aiid  iivesi 
 iM  '^'^^^  -.^  '-^^  ni.-^^-n^   


23 

Oh,  Willie  Brewed* 

Oh,  Willie  brewed  a  peck  o'  maut, 
And  Rob  and  Allan  cam  to  pree  : 
Three  blither  hearts  that  lee^lang  night, 
Ye  wadna  find  in  Christendie. 

We.  are  nae  fu*,  we're  no  that  fu', 

But  just  a  drappie  in  our  e'e  ; 
The  cock  may  craw,  the  day  may  davr, 
And  ay  e  we'll  taste  the  barley  bree. 

Here  are  we  met,  three  merry  boys, 
Three  merry  boys,  I  trow,  are  we  ; 

And  mony  a  night  weVe  merry  been, 
And  mony  mae  we  hope  to  be  ! 

It  is.  the  moon,  I  ken  her  horns, 
That's  blinkin'  in  the  lift  sae  hie ; 

She  sliines  sae  bright  to  wile  ushame, 
But,  by  my  sooth,  she'll  vvait  a  wee/ 

.  Wha  first  shall  rise  to  gang  awaV 
A  cuckold,  covYard  loon  is  he  ! 
Wha  last  beside  his  chair  shall  fa', 
lie  is  the  king"  amang  us  three  I 

Bmee's  Address  to  . Ms  Army  . 

Scots,  who  hae  wiV  Wallace  bled, 
>cots,  wham  Bruce  has  afteii  led  ; 
Weicouie  to  jour  gory  bed, 
Or  to  victory  | 

Now  s  the  day  and  uow*s  tiie  hour  ; 
■■ii:.^e0  the  front  o*  battle  lour  ; 

See  appruauli  proud  Edwaid'i  power — ' 


24 


Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave  ? 
Wha  will  fill  a  coward's  grave  ? 
Wha  sae  base  as  be  a  slave ! 

Let  him  turn  and  flee ! 
Wha  for  Scotland's  king  and  law. 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw, 
Preenian  stand,  or  freeman  fa\ 

Let  him  follow  me  1 
Bj  opDression's  woes  and  pains ! 
By  your  sons  in  servile  chains ! 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins. 

But  they  shall  be  free  ! 
Lay  the  proud  usurper  low! 
Tyrants  fall  at  every  foe ! 
Liberty  at  every  blow  !— 

Let  us  do,  er  die ! 


Wandering  Willie. 

Here  awa,  there  awa,  wandering  Willie, 
Here  awa,  there  awa,  hand  awa  hame ; 
Come  to  my  bosom,  my  ain  only  dearie, 
Tell  me  thou  bring'st  me  Willie  the  same. 
Winter-winds  blew  loud  and  eauld  at  our  parting. 
Fears  for  my  Willie  brought  tears  in  my  e'e ; 
Welcome  now  simmer  and  welcome  my  Willie^ 
The  simmer  to  nature,  my  Willie  to  me. 
Eest,  ye  wild  storms,  in  the  cave  of  your  slumbers, 
How  your  dread  howling  a  lover  alarms ! 
Wauken,  ye  breezes  !  row  gently,  ye  billows ! 
And  waft  my  dear  laddie  ance  mair  to  my  arms ! 
But  oh,  if  he's  faithless,  and  minds  na  his  Nannie, 
Flow  still  between  us  thou  wide-roaring  main  ! 
May  I  neiver  see  it,  may  I  never  trow  it, 
But,  dying,  believe,  that  my  Willie's  my  ain  ! 


