The lasses a', baith far and near, Then to his bags he flew wi' speed, When I hae sic a dancer. Weel hae you play'd your part, quo' Meg; I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife, "This old song," says Burns, "so pregnant with Scottish naïveté and energy, is much relished by all ranks, notwithstanding its broad wit and palpable allusions. Its language is a precious model of imitation,-sly, sprightly, and forcibly expressive. Maggie's tongue wags out the nick-names of Rob the piper with all the careless lightsomeness of unrestrained gaiety." KISSING'S NO SIN. ANONYMOUS. Seventeenth or eighteenth century. SOME say that kissing's a sin; But I think it's nane ava, For kissing has wonn'd in this warld Oh, if it wasna lawfu', Lawyers wadna allow it; If it was na holy, Ministers wadna do it. If it wasna modest, Maidens wadna tak' it ; If it wasna plenty, Puir folk wadna get it. Bring a' your maut to me, Bring a' your maut to me; My draff ye'se get for ae pund ane, Though a' my deukies should dee. We are indebted to Mr. Robert Chambers for the preservation of the first three verses of this characteristic ditty. It was recovered by him from the singing of a friend, and first printed in 1829 in his "Historical Essay on Scottish Song." FOR A' THAT. ROBERT BURNS. Is there for honest poverty That hangs his head and a' that? Our toils obscure and a' that; What though on hamely fare we dine, Gi'e fools their silks, an' knaves their wine,— A man's a man for a' that. For a' that and a' that, Their tinsel show and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, Wha struts and stares and a' that; For a' that and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that; A prince can mak' a belted knight, Their dignities and a' that; The pith o' sense and pride o' worth Then let us pray that come it may, That sense and worth o'er a' the earth For a' that and a' that, It's comin' yet for a' that, That man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that. In reference to this immortal song, founded on a more ancient and very inferior one, with the same burden, or "overlay," Burns wrote to Mr. Thomson:-"A great critic (Aikin) on songs, says that love and wine are the exclusive themes for songwriting. The following is on neither subject, and consequently is no song; but will be allowed, I think, to be two or three pretty good prose thoughts inverted into rhyme." SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD. BURNS. Air-"Tibbie Fowler in the glen." WILLIE Wastle dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie ; Cou'd stown a clue wi' ony bodie; He had a wife was dour and din, I wadna gi'e a button for her. She has an ee, she has but ane, The cat has twa the very colour; Five rusty teeth forbye a stump, A clapper tongue wad deave a miller; A whiskin beard about her mou', Her nose and chin they threaten ither. She's bow-hough'd, she's hein-shinn'd, She has a hump upon her breast, Auld baudrans by the ingle sits, An' wi' her loof her face a-washin; But Willie's wife is nae sae trig, She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion; Her walie nieves like midden-creels, Her face wad fyle the Logan-water. Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gi'e a button for her. MY SPOUSE NANCY. BURNS. Air-"My jo Janet." HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, Yet I am not your slave, sir. "One of two must still obey, Is it man or woman, say, My spouse Nancy?" If 'tis still the lordly word, "Sad will I be so bereft, Yet I'll try to make a shift, My spouse Nancy." My poor heart then break it must, My last hour I'm near it ; When you lay me in the dust, Think, think, how you will bear it. "I will hope and trust in heaven, Strength to bear it will be given, Well, sir, from the silent dead "I'll wed another like my dear Nancy, Nancy; Then all hell will fly for fear, My spouse Nancy.” "Your humorous English song to suit 'Jo Janet' is inimitable." Thomson, in a Letter to Burns. WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T. BURNS. Air-" Whistle o'er the lave o't." FIRST When Maggie was my care, |