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My daddie says, gin I'U forsake him,

He'll gie me good hunder marks ten : But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,

O wha will I get but Tam Glen ?

Yestreen at the valentine's dealing,

My heart to my mou gied a sten; For thrice I drew ane without failing,

And thrice it was written Tam Glen.

The last Halloween I was waukin,

My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken; His likeness cam up the house staukin,

Aud the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!

Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry ;

I'll gie you my bonnie black hen, Gif ye will advise me to marry

The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.


O meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty ;

And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin; But little thinks my love I ken brawlie,

My tocher's the jewel has charms for him. It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree ;

It's a' for the liney he'll cherish the bee ; My laddie's sae' meikle in luve wi' the siller,

He can na hae luve to spare for me.

Your proffer o'luve's an airle-penny,

My tucher's the bargain ye wad buy ; But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin,

Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try. Ye're like to the timmer o'yon rotten wood,

Ye're like to the bark o'yon rotten tree, Ve'll slip frac me like a knotless thread,

And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me. THEN GUIDWIFE COUNT THE


Gane is the day and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for faute o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And blude-red wine's the rising sun.

Then guidwife count the lawin, the lawin, the

lawin, Then guidwife count the lawin, and bring a

coggie mair.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple-folk maun fecht and fen;
But here we're a' in ae accord,
For ilka man that 's drunk 's a lord.

Then guidwife count, &c.
My coggie is a haly pool,
That heals the wounds of care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,
An' ye drink it a' ye'll find him out.

Then guidwife count, doc,



What can a young lassie, what shall a young

lassie, What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man! Bad luck on the pennie that tempted my minnie To sell her poor Jenny for siller and lan'!

Bad luck on the pennie, &c.

He's always compleenin frae mornin to e'enin,

He hosts and he birples the weary day lang ; He's doyl't and he's dozin, his blude it is frozen,

Oh, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!
Vol. II.


He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,

I never can please him, do a' that I can ; He's peevish, and jealous of a'the young fellows,

Oh, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man !

My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,

I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan ; I'll cross him, and wrack him, until I heart-break

him, And then his auld brass will buy me a new



Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,

Lovely wee thing, was thou mine; I wad wear thee in my bosom,

Lest my jewel I should tine.

Wishfully I look and languish

In that bonnie face of thine ;
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,

Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Wit, and grace, and love, and beauty,

In ae constellation shine;
To adore thee is my duty,
Goddess of this soul o' mine!

Bonnie wee, c.


Tune-“The Moudiewort,"

on 0, for ane and twenty, Tam!

An hey, sweet ane and twenty, Tam! I'll learn my kin a rattlin sang,

An I saw ane and twenty, Tam.

They snool me sair, and haud me down,

An gar me look like bluntie, Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun',
Aud then comes ane and twenty, Tam.

An 0, for ane, c.

A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,

Was left me by my auntie, Tam ;
At kith or kin I need na spier,
An I saw ane and twenty, Tam.

An 0, for ane, &c.

They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,

Tho' I mysel hae plenty, Tam;
But hear'st thou, laddie, there's my loof,
I'm thine at ane and twenty, Tam!

An 0, for ane, &c.


leeze me on my spinning wheel,
O leeze on my rock and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me fiel and warm at e’en!
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh de cends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, and milk and meal-
O leeze me on my spinning wheel.

On ilka hand the burnies trot,
And meet below my theekit cot;
The scented birk and hawthorn white
Across the pool their arms unite,
Alike to screen the birdie's nest,
And little fishes' caller rest;
The sun blinks kindly in the biel',
Where blythe I turn my spinnin wheel.

On lofty aiks the cushats wail,
And echo cons the doolfu' tale;

The lintwhites in the hazel braes,
Delighted, rival ither's lays :
The craik amang the claver hay,
The paitrick whirrin o'er the ley,
The swallow jinkin round my shiel,
Amuse me at my spinnin wheel.

Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,
Aboon distress, below envy,
O wha would leave this humble state,
For a' the pride of a' the great!
Amid their flairing, idle toys,
Amid their cumbrous dinsome joys ;
Can they the peace and pleasure feel
Of Bessy at her spinning wheel?


In simmer when the hay was mawn,

And corn waved green in ilka field, While claver blooms white o'er the lee,

And roses blaw in ilka bield ; Blythe Bessy in the milking shiel,

Says I'll be wed, come what will ; Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild,

Ogude advisement comes nae ill.

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Its ye hae wooers mony ane,

And, lassie, ye're but young ye ken; Then wait a wee, and cannie wale

A routhie butt, a routhie ben: There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,

Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre ; Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,

It's plenty beets the luver's fire.
For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,

I dinna care a single flie ;
He loes sae weel his craps and kye

He has nae luve to spare for me :

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