WHARE hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O?
Oh, whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?
Cam ye by Killiecrankie, O?
An ye had been whare I hae been,

Ye wad na been sae cantie, O;
An ye had seen what I hae seen,

On the braes of Killiecrankie, O.

I fought at land, I fought at sea;
At hame I fought my auntie, O;
But, WORST OF A', I met Dundee,

On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.
The bauld Pitcur fell in a furr,
And Clavers got a clankie, O;

Or I had fed an Athole gled,

On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.

where, so gaudy

if, have wouldn't, merry

home

bold, furrow

blow

kite

FOR A' THAT, AND A' THAT.

THOUGH Women's minds, like winter winds
May shift and turn, and a' that;

He roosed my een, sae bonnie blue,

He roosed my waist, sae genty sma'; And aye my heart came to my mou', When ne'er a body heard or saw.

My Jockey toils upon the plain,

Through wind and weet, through frost and snaw:

And o'er the lea I leuk fu' fain,

When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.

praised, eyes so neatly mouth

wet look

oxen

And aye the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a';

And aye he vows he'll be my ain,
As lang's he has a breath to draw.

own

THE TITHER MORN.

To a Highland Air.

THE tither morn, when I forlorn
Aneath an aik sat moaning,

I did na trow, I'd see my jo,
Beside me, gin the gloaming.
But he sae trig, lap o'er the rig,
And dawtingly did cheer me,
When I, what reck, did least expec',

To see my lad so near me.

His bonnet he, a thought ajee,

other

beneath, oak

not, believe, lover by the evening

so neat, leapt, ridge endearingly heed

awry

Cocked sprush when first he clasped me ;
And I, I wat, wi' fainness grat,

spruce

wot, wept

While in his grips he pressed me.

THAT WEARY war! I late and air,
Hae BANN'D since Jock departed;
But now as glad I'm wi' my lad,
As short syne broken-hearted.
Fu' aft at e'en wi' dancing keen,

When a' were blithe and merry,

I cared na by, sae sad was I,
In absence o' my dearie.

But, now I'm blest, my mind's at rest,

I'm happy wi' my Johnny :

At kirk and fair, I'se aye be there,

And be as canty's ony.

gripe

early

have

time ago

oft

not although

I'll always

happy

AS I WAS A WANDERING.

TUNE-Rinn Meudial mo Mhealladh.

As I was wandering ae midsummer e'enin',
The pipers and youngsters were making their game;
Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover,
Which bled a' the wounds o' my dolour again.

one

false

grief

Weel, since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi' him;

I may be distressed, but I winna complain; I flatter my fancy I may get anither,

My heart it shall never be broken for ane,

I couldna get sleeping till dawing for greetin',

The tears trickled down like the hail and the rain:
Had I no got greetin', my heart wad ha' broken,
For oh! love forsaken's a tormenting pain.
Although he has left me for greed o' the siller,
I dinna envy him the gains he can win ;
I rather wad bear a' the lade o' my sorrow
Than ever hae acted sae faithless to him.

go wont another

one

dawn, [weeping not, would [have

money dont

load

have, so

THE WEARY PUND O' TOW.

TUNE-The Weary Pund o' Tow.
THE weary pund, the weary pund,
The weary pund o' tow;

I think my wife will end her life
Before she spin her tow.

I bought my wife a stane o' lint
As guid as e'er did grow;

And a' that she has made o' that,
Is ae poor pund o' tow.

There sat a bottle in a bole,
Beyont the ingle lowe,

And aye she took the tither souk,
To drouk 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 knowe;
And or I wad anither jad,
I'll wallop in a tow.

pound

stone, flax

good

one

fire flame

other suck drench, dusty

go, portion

head

went, knoll ere, wed, jade hang, rope

GANE IS THE DAY.
TUNE-Guidwife, count the Lawin.

GANE is the day, and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for fau't o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And bluid-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.

gone, dark

want

reckoning

cupful more

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And simple folk maun fight and fen;
But here we're a' in ae accord,

For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.

My coggie is a haly pool,

That heals the wounds o' care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,

An ye drink but deep ye'll find him out.

must, shift

one

every

cup, holy

sorrow

IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNIE FACE.

TUNE-The Maid's Complaint.

IT is na, Jean, thy bonnie face

Nor shape that I admire,

Although thy beauty and thy grace

Might weel awake desire.

Something, in ilka part o' thee,

To praise, to love, I find;

not

well

every

But dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

See you not yon hills and dales,

The sun shines on sae brawlie!

They a' are mine, and they shall be thine,
Gin ye'll leave your Collier Laddie.

Ye shall gang in gay attire,
Weel buskit up sae gaudy;

And ane to wait on every hand,

Gin ye'll leave your Collier Laddie. Though ye had a' the sun shines on, And the earth conceals sae lowly; I wad turn my back on you and it a', And embrace my Collier Laddie.

go

dressed so

one

would

I can win my five pennies in a day,
And spen't at night fu' brawlie;
And make my bed in the Collier's neuk,
And LIVE wi' my Collier Laddie.

Luve for luve is the bargain for me,

Though the wee cot-house should haud me;
And the world before me to win my bread,
And fair fa' my Collier Laddie.

corner

hold

YE JACOBITES BY NAME.

TUNE-Ye Jacobites by Name.

YE Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear;

Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear;

Ye Jacobites by name,

Your fautes I will proclaim,

Your doctrines I maun blame

You shall hear.

What is right and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?

What is right and what is wrang by the law?
What is right and what is wrang?

A short sword and a lang,

A weak arm, and a strang

For to draw.

What makes heróic strife, famed afar, famed afar?

What makes heroic strife famed afar?

What makes heroic strife?

To whet th' assassin's knife,

Or haunt a parent's life

Wi' bluidie war.

Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state;

Then let your schemes alone in the state;

Then let your schemes alone,

Adore the rising sun,

And leave a man undone

To his fate.

LADY MARY ANN.

TUNE-Craigton's Growing.

OH, Lady Mary Ann looked o'er the castle wa';
She saw three bonnie boys playing at the ba';
The youngest he was the flower amang them a’-

My bonnie laddie's young, but he's growin' yet.

O father! O father! an ye think it fit,
We'll send him a year to the college yet:
We'll sew a green ribbon round about his hat,

And that will let them ken he's to marry yet.

faults

must

wrong

long

strong

bloody

wall ball

if