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Now a' is done that men can do,
And a' is done in vain ;
He turn'd him right and round about
Upon the Irish shore ;
his bridle-reins a shake,
The sodger frae the wars ret ns,
The sailor frae the main ;
When day is gane, and night is come,
And a' folk bound to sleep,
There'll never be Peace
By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,
till Jamie comes hame. main] the high sea. lee-lang] live-long.
The Church is in ruins, the State is in jars,
words are the sameThere 'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
Cock up your Beaver
brave Johnnie lad
That wanted the crown ;
A hat and a feather,–
Cock up your
Cock up your beaver,
And cock it fu' sprush,
And gie them a brush :
We 'll teach better behaviour-
Cock up your beaver !
Wee Willie Gray WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet ; Peel a willow-wand to be him boots and jacket : The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet, The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet. Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet; Twice a lily flower will be him sark and cravat: Feathers of a flea wad feather up his bonnet, Feathers of a flea wad feather up his bonnet.
WEE, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie,
Wi' bickering brattle!
Wi' murd'ring pattle !
Which mak's thee startle
I doubt na, whiles, but thou
thieve; What then ? poor beastie, thou maun live ! A daimen-icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request : I 'll get a blessin' wi' the lave,
And never miss 't! sark] shirt.
bickering brattle) scurrying rush. pattle] plough-spade.
daimen-icker) odd ear of corn. thrave) two dozen sheaves. lave) remainder.
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin !
O' foggage green!
Baith snell an' keen !
Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste,
winter comin' fast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Out thro’ thy cell.
But house or hald,
An' cranreuch cauld !
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane
Gang aft a-gley,
For promis'd joy.
On prospects drear !
away, Here's a health to them that's
Old Song *
Honour and shame from no condition rise ; Act well your part, there all the honour lies. Fortune in men has some small difference made, One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade ; The cobbler apron'd, and the parson gown'd, The friar hooded, and the monarch crown'd. 'What differ more (you cry) than crown and cowl ? ' I 'll tell you, friend ! a wise man and a fool. You 'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk, Or, cobbler-like, the parson will be drunk, Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow ; The rest is all but leather or prunella.
70* A Man's a Man for a' that
Is there for honest poverty
That hangs his head, and a' that?
We dare be poor for a' that ! short syne] a short time ago.
but] nothing but. prunella] the stuff the parson's gown was made of. Is there] Is there any one who hangs . .