The Widow can fhape, and the Widow can few,
And mony brave Things the Widow can do;
Then have at the Widow my Laddie.
With Courage attack her baith early and late,
To kifs her and clap her ye mayna be blate;
Speak well and do better, for that's the best Gate
To win a young Widow, my Laddie,

The Widow fhe's youthful, and never a Hair
The war of the wearing, and has a good Skair
Of every Thing lovely; fhe's witty and fair,
And has a rich Jointure, my Laddie,

What cou'd ye with better your Pleasure to

crown,

Than a Widow, the bonieft Toaft in the Town, With naithing, but draw in your Stool, and fir

down,

And sport with the Widow, my Laddie? Then till'er and kill'er with Courtefie dead, Tho' ftark Love and Kindness be all ye can plead Be heartfome and airy, and hope to fucceed With a bonny gay Widow, my Laddie. Strike Iron while 'tis het, if ye'd have it to wald For Fortune ay favours the active and bauld, But ruins the Woer that's thowless and cauld, Unfit for the Widow, my Laddie,

SONG CCCXXXIX. Ladies, why, Bec

Cannot I your Grief remove?

Is there none that can content you
With the fweet Delights of Love?
No, no, no no:

you?

No, no, no, no, no, nag

Beauty in a perfect Measure,

Hath the Love and Wish of all:

Dear, then fhall I wait the Pleasure
That commands my Heart and all?
O No, &c.

If I grieve, and you can cafe me,
Will you be fo fiercely bent,
Having wherewithal to please me,
Muft Iftill be difcontent?
0 No, &c.

If I am your faithful Servant,
And my Love does still remain,
Will you' think it ill deferved,
To be favour'd for my Pain ?
O No, &c.

If I fhould then but crave a Favour,
Which your Lips invite me to;
Will you think it ill Behaviour,
Thus to fteal a Kifs or two?
O No, &c.

All-amazing Beauty's Wonder,

May I prefume your Breaft to touch?
Or to feel a little under,

Will you think I do too much?
O No, &c.

Once more, faireft, let me try ye,
Now my With is fully fped,

If all Night I would lie by ye,
*Shall I be refus'd your Bed?
O No, &c.

SONG CCCXL. Had away from me, Donald.

Come away, come away,
Come away wi me Jenny;

Sic Frowns F canna bear frae ane

Whafe Smiles anes ravish'd me, Jenny : If you'll be kind, you'll never find

That ought fal alter me, Jenny;
For you're the Miftrifs of my Mind,
Whate'er you think of me, Jenny.

First when your Sweets enllay'd my Heart,
You feem'd to favour me, Jenny;

But now, alas! you act a Part
That speaks Unconftancy, Jenny.
Unconftancy is fic a Vice,

'Tis not befitting thee, Jenny; It fuits not with your Virtue nice, To carry fae to me, Jenny.

SONG CCCXLI. O bad away, &c. Had away, had away,

O

Had away frae me, Donald;

Your Heart is made o'er large for ane,
It is not meet for me, Donald :
Some fickle Miftrifs you may find
Will jilt as faft as thee, Donald;
To ilka Swain fhe will prove kind,
And nae lefs kind to thee, Donald
But I've a Heart that's naithing fuch,
"Tis fill'd with Honesty, Donald;
I'll ne'er love mony, I'll love much,
I hate all Levity, Donald.

Therefore nae mair, with Art, pretend
Your Heart is chain'd to mine, Donald
For Words of Falfhood I'll defend,
A röving Love like thine, Donald.
First when you courted, I must own
I frankly favour'd you, Donald;
Apparent Worth and fair Renown
Made me believe you true, Donald.
Ilk Virtue then feem'd to adorn
The Man efteem'd by me, Donald;
But now the Mafk fallen aff, I fcorn
To ware a Thought on thee, Donald

And now, for ever, from away

Had

me,

had away

Donald

Gae feek a Heart that's like your ain,

And come nae mair to me, Donald:

For I'll referve my fell for ane

For ane that's liker me, Donald;

If fica ane I canna find,

I'll ne'er loo Man, nor thee, Donald,

DONALD.

Then I'm thy Man, and falfe Report
Has only tald a Lie, Jenny;

To try thy Truth, and make us Sport,
The Tale was rais'd by me, Jenny.
JENNY.

When this ye prove, and ftill can love,
Then come away to me, Donald;
I'm well content, ne'er to repent
That I have fmil'd on thee, Donald.

SONG CCCXLII. Todlen butt, and
Todlen ben.

W

Hen I've Saxpence under my Thumb, Then I get Credit in ilka Town; But ay when I'm poor they bid me gang by; O Poverty parts good Company.

Todlen bame, todlen bame,

Coudna my Love come toḍlen bame.

Fair-fa' the Goodwife, and fend her good Sale, She gi'es us white Bannocks to drink her Ale, Syne if that her Tippony chance to be sma', We'll tak a good Scour o't, and ca't awa’, Todlen bame, todlen bame,

As round as a Neep come todlen bame. My Kimmer and I lay down to sleep, And twa Pint-ftoups at our Bed's-feet; And ay when we waken'd, we drank them dry: What think ye of my wee Kimmer and I?

Todlen butt, and todlen ben,

Sae round as my Love comes todlen bame.
Leez me on Liquor, my todlen Dow,
Ye're ay fae good-humour'd when weeting your
Mou;

When fober fae four, ye'll fight with a Flee,
That 'tis a blyth Sight to the Bairns and me,
When todlen bame, todlen bame,

When round as a Neep ye come todlen bame,

SONG CCCXLIII. Widow are ye, &c. Wha's that at my Chamber-door? "Fair Widow are ye wawkin?"

Auld Carle, your Suite give o'er,

Your Love lies a' in tawking.

Gi'e me the Lad that's young and tight,
Sweet like an April Meadow;
'Tis fic as he can bless the Sight
And Bofom of a Widow.

"O Widow, wilt thou let me in,
"I'm pawky, wife and thrifty,
"And come of a right gentle Kin;
"I'm little mair than fifty."
Daft Carle dit your Mouth,
What fignifies how pawky,

Or gentle born ye be,

-hot Youth,

In Love you're but a Gawky.

"Then, Widow, let thefe Guineas fpeak,
"That pow'rfully plead clinkan,
"And if they fail, my Mouth I'll fteek,
"And nae mair Love will think on."
Thefe court indeed, I maun confess,
I think they make you young, Sir,
And ten times better can exprefs
Affection, than your Tongue, Sir.

SONG CCCXLIV. The glancing of ber Apron.

MY Jeany and I have toil'd
Μ

The live-lang Simmer-Day,

Till we amaift were spoil'd
At making of the Hay:
Her Kurchy was of Holland clear,
Ty'd on her bony Brow,

I whisper'd fomething in her Ear
But what's that to you?

Her Stockings were of Kerfy green,
As tight as ony Silk:

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