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To thee my fancy took its wing,

I sat, but neither heard nor saw. Tho' this was fair, an' that was braw, An' yon

the toast of a' the town, I sigh’d, an' said amang them a',

“Ye are na Mary Morison.”

O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace

Wha for thy sake wad gladly die ? Or canst thou break that heart of his,

Whase only faut is loving thee? If love for love thou wilt na gi'e,

At least be pity on me shown; A thought ungentle canna be

The thought o' Mary Morison.

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SOMEBODY.
TUNE_"For the sake of somebody."
My heart is sair-I dare na tell-

My heart is sair for somebody;
I could wake a winter night
For the sake of somebody.

Oh-hon, for somebody!

Oh-hey, for somebody!
I could range the world around,

For the sake o' somebody!

Ye powers that smile on virtuous love,

Oh, sweetly smile on somebody!
Frae ilk danger keep him free,
And send me safe my somebody.

Oh-hon, for somebody!

Oh-hey, for somebody!
I wad do-what wad I not!

For the sake o' somebody!

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(“I composed these stanzas standing under the falls of Aberfeldy, at or near Moness, Perthshire.”—Burns.]

CHORUS.

BONNIE lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go;
Bonnie lassie, will ye go,

To the birks of Aberfeldy?

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays;
Come, let us spend the lightsome days

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

The little birdies blithely sing,
While o’er their heads the hazels hing,

I'll aye ca in by yon Town.

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Or lightly flit on wanton wing

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

The braes ascend, like lofty wa's,
The foamy stream deep-roaring fa's,
O’erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,

The birks of Aberfeldy.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flow'rs,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
An' rising, weets wi' misty showers

The birks of Aberfeldy.

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Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love an' thee,

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

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I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

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

And see my bonnie Jean again.

There's nane sall ken, there's nane sall guess,

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

And stowlins we sall meet again.

She'll wander by the aiken tree,

When trystin’-time draws near again; And when her lovely form I see,

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

And by yon garden green again :
I 'll

aye ca' in by yon town,
And see my bonnie Jean again.

THE EXCISEMAN.

Tune—“The de'il cam' fiddling through the town.” [“At a meeting of his brother excisemen in Dumfries, Burns being called upon for a song, handed these verses extempore to the president, written on the back of a letter.”—Currie.]

The de'il cam' fiddling through the town,

An' danc'd awa’ wi' the Exciseman,
And ilka wife cries—"Auld Mahoun,
I wish you luck o'the prize, man!”
The de'il's awa', the de'il's awa',

The de'il's awa' wi' the Exciseman;
He's danc'd awa', he's danc'd awa',

He's danc'd awa’ wi’ the Exciseman !

Oh, wat ye wha's in yon Town.

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We'll mak' our maut, we 'll brew our drink,

We'll dance, an' sing, an' rejoice, man; And mony

braw thanks to the meikle black de'il That danc'd awa' wi’ the Exciseman. The de'il's awa', the de'il's awa',

The de'il's awa wi' the Exciseman;
He's danc'd awa', he's danced awa',

He's danc'd awa' wi' the Exciseman.

There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,

There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e'er cam' to the land
Was—the de'il's awa' wi’ the Exciseman.
The de'il 's awa', the de'il's awa',

The de'il's awa'wi' the Exciseman;
He's danc'd awa', he's danc'd awa',

He's danc'd awa' wi' the Exciseman.

OH, WAT YE WHA’S IN YON TOWN.

TUNE-—"I'll gae nae mair to yon town.”

Oh, wat ye wha's in yon town,

Ye see the e’enin' sun upon ?
The fairest dame's in yon town,

That e’enin' sun is shining on.

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