5 10 639 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0d9c7293468f69bbb9b096a253014a7f.jpg fa389d6ed7406e6b1625ef4b6d8fee88 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a young man wearing hat. He is standing in a field sharpening a scythe https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e15ff31de2e0c42992aa137772f7fff8.pdf 73fcc170a11f1b2568c17e49fc5cbc8f PDF Text Text FIVE Favourite Songs, THE GOLDEN GLOVE. THE ANSWER. GET UP AND BAR THE DOOR. THE CHOUGH AND CROW. NOW YE'RE F A R A W A', LOVE. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR TIIE 15. BOOKSELLERS. �M 711 SONGS. .fK'iwK'KA a i r r THE GOLDEN GLOVE. A wealthy young 'squire of T amworth we hear, He courted a nobleman's daughter so fair; And for to marry her it was his intent, All friends and relations had given their consent. The time was appointed for the wedding-day, A young farmer was chosen the father to be ; As soon as the lady the farmer did spy, It flamed her heart, 0 my heart, she did cry. She turned from the 'squire, nothing she said, Instead of being married she went to her bed, The thoughts of the farmer still run in her mind, The way for to have him she soon then did find. Coat, waistcoat, and breeches she then did put on, And a-hunting she went with her dog and her gun She hunted all round where the farmer did dwell, Because in her heart she lov'd him so well. She oftentimes fired, but nothing she killed, At lengtn the young farmer came into the field; �3 Then for to talk with him it was her intent, With her dog and gun to meet him she went I thought you had been at the wedding, she cry'd, To wait on the/squire to give him his bride ; No, sir, said the farmer, if the truth I may tell, I'll not give her away, for I love her too well. Suppose that the lady should grant you her love, You know that the 'squire your rival will prove ; 0 then, says the farmer, I'll take sword in hand, By honour I'll gain her, or my life's at command. It pleased the lady to hear him so bold, And she gave him a glove that was flower'd with gold, She told him she found it in coming along, As she was a-hunting with her dog and her gun. The lady went home with her heart full of love, And she gave out a speech she had lost her glove ; And the man that does find it and bring it to me, The man that does find it, his bride I shall be. The farmer was pleased when he heard the news— With a heart full of joy to his lady he goes ; Dear honoured lady, I've pick'd up your glove, If you will be pleased to grant me your love. It is already granted, I will be your bride, 1 love the sweet breath of a farmer, she cry'd ; I'll be mistress of the dairy and milking the cows, While my jolly brisk farmer is whistling at plows. �4 THE ANSWER. The 'squire he returned in a furious mood, Swearing to be revenged in the farmer's blood; But fortune to the farmer proving more kind, Disappointed the 'squire of his cruel design. The 'squire and farmer by chance did meet, Says the 'squire to the farmer, you are undiscreet For taking from me my lovely sweet bride ; You shall either fight me, or die by my side. With all my whole heart, the farmer did cry, To fight for my jewel I'll never deny ; So to work with vigour they instantly went, But the 'squire yielding, gave the farmer content. And now they are married in great splendour we hear, The farmer possesses nine thousand a^year ; With his beautiful lady, and likewise his hall, He has men and maid-servants, and all at his call. Here's a health to plough-boys, the lady did cry, That I'm wed to a ploughman I'll never deny, Because they are men of honour, and that we are sure, And also do labour for both rich and poor. After the wedding she told of the fun, How she hunted the farmer with a dog and gun; But now I have catched him so fast in my snare, I'll enjoy him for ever, I vow and declare. �5 GET UP AND B A R THE DOOR. It fell upon a Martinmas time, And a gay time it was then, When our goodwife got puddings to make, And she boil'd them in a pan. The wind sae cauld blew south and north, And blew into the floor, Quoth our goodman to our goodwife, Get up and bar the door. My hand is in my hussy's skap, Goodman as you may see, An' it should na be barr'd this hundred year, It's no be barr'd for me. They made a paction 'tween them twa, They made it firm and sure, That the first word whae'er should speak, Should rise and bar the door Then by there came twa gentlemen, At twelve o'clock at night, And they could neither see house nor hall, Nor coal nor candle light. Now, whether is this a rich man's house ? Or whether is it a poor ? But ne'er a word would ane o' them speak, For barring of the door. �6 And first they ate the white puddings, And then they ate the black ; Tho' muckle thought the goodwife to hersel', Yet ne'er a word she spak'. Then said the one unto the other, Here man, take my knife, Do ye tak* aff the auld man's beard, And I'll kiss the goodwife. But there's nae water in the house, And what shall we do then? What ails you at the pudding bree That boils into the pan ? 0 up then started our goodman, An angry man was he ; Will ye kiss my wife before my face. And scad me wi' pudding bree ? Then up then started our goodwife, Gi'ed three skips on the floor ; Goodman, you've spoken the foremost word, Get up and bar the door. NOW Y E ' R E F A R AW A', LOVE. Oh ! now ye're far awa', love, Ye're far awa' frae me, O'er woodland glens, and rocky dens. And o'er the raging sea. �7 I stand upon the rocky shore, The rocky hills behind, I spy the distant ship afar, That's driven with the wind. I see the waves around her rise, Ten thousand billows roar ; The foaming surges lash the skies Behind her and before. Unto the winds I gave a sigh, Unto the waves a tear ; Up to the skies I send my cry, 0 for my dearest dear. Kind Providence, oh! hear my voice, Oh, wilt thou her life save ? Oh, keep her from the sunken rocks, And from a watery grave. For, though she's borne awa' frae me, Across the raging main, Our hapless loves may yet revive, Were we to meet again. THE CHOUGH AND CROW. The chough and crow to roost are gone, The owl sits on the tree, The hush'd wind wails with feeble moan, Like infant charity. �8 The wild fire dances on the fen, The red star sheds its ray ; Up-rouse ye then, my merry men. It is our opening day. Both child and nurse is fast asleep, And closed is every flower, And winking tapers faintly peep, High from my lady's bower ; Bewildered hinds with shortening ken, Shrink on their murky way ; Up-rouse ye then, my merry men, It is our opening day. Nor board nor garner own we now, Nor roof nor latched door, Nor kind mate, bound by holy vow, To bless a good man's store. Noon lulls us in a gloomy den, And night has grown our day ; Up-rouse ye $ien, my merry men, And use it as ye may. ! <00 1 O t ' ,99'rt 0 d.t ! I'ii firi ff elujw � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 001: Title-page illustration of a young farmer sharpening a scythe in a field. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Five Favourite Songs. The Golden Glove. The Answer. Get Up and Bar the Door. The Chough and Crow. Now Ye're Far Awa', Love. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Golden Glove The Answer Get Up and Bar the Door The Chough and Crow Now Ye're Far Awa', Love Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923314963505154">s0427b20</a> Description An account of the resource 15 printed at foot of title page Woodcut #01: Illustration on title-page of a young farmer sharpening a scythe in a field. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage Wit and Humor Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): bonnet Fashion (Clothing): jacket Fashion (Clothing): pants Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: man/men Occupation: farmer Outdoor Scene Tools: scythe(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/543a4fcfe73dfd73ca6f5f630e588ec5.jpg 348691286b26769f4a6eb45bad20b325 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying young man wearing a straw hat, coat, and striped socks, sitting on a rock with a bowl of berries? https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3236da2f9bed0d90757aabfd7b5cba1c.pdf 4b0d420221201f02b40683d7d5259b19 PDF Text Text FIVE EXCELLENT SONGS. .aHHlLMHIitt i /iA L&VXV'O- 21HT THE CONSTANT SHEPHERD. THE WREATH. WELCOME SUMMER BACK THE DAINTY BIT THE AGAIN. PLAN. BACHELOR. GLASGOW; PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. 25. �SONGS. THE CONSTANT SHEPHERD. My Patie is a lover gay, His mind is never muddy ; His breath is sweeter than new hay, His face is fair and ruddy: His shape is handsome, middle size, He's comely in his wauking; The shining o' his een surprise; It's heaven to hear him tanking. Yestreen I met him on a bawk, Where yellow corn was growing, Where mony a kindly word he spak, That set my heart a-glowing. He kiss'd and vow'd he wad bo mine, And lo'ed me best o' ony ; That gars me like to sing sinsyne, 0 corn riggs are bonny. Let lasses o' a silly mind Refuse what maist they're wanting, Since we for yielding were design'd, We chastely should be granting* Then I'll comply and marry Pate: And syne my cockernony He's free to touzle ear' or late While corn riggs are bonny. �3 THE W R E A T H . Ye shepherds tell me, tell mo, have you seen, Have you seen my Flora pass this way, in shape and feature beauty's queen, In pastoral, in pastoral array. Chorus. Shepherds tell me, tell me, tell me have you seen, Have you seen my Flora pass this way, Have you seen, tell me, shepherds, have you seen, Tell me have you seen my Flora pass this way. A wreath around her head, around her head she wort Carnation, lily, lily, rose, And in her hand a crook she bore, And sweets, and sweets her breath compose. Shepherds tell me, &c. The beauteous, the beauteous wreath that decks her head, . Forms her description, her description true, Hands lily white, lips crimson red, And cheeks, and cheeks of rosy hue. Shepherds tell me, &c. WELCOME S U M M E R B A C K AGAIN. In Flora's train the graces wait, And chase rude winter from the plain ; As on she roves, the wild flowers spring, And welcome summer back again. �4 Spring dances o'er the plain, Flowering all the woodland scene, Then join with me, my lovely May, To welcome summer back again, The budding wild will soon perfume The air, when balm'd by April's rain; 'Mong banks clad o'er wi* waving broom, We'll welcome summer back again. In yon sequester'd scene, The mavis sings his cheerful strain, And there we'll meet, my lovely May, To welcome summer back again. When yellow cowslips soent the meadv Then gladness o'er the plains will reign ; And soon, my love, we'll pu' the flowers, And welcome summer back again. Spring dances o'er the plain, Flowering all the woodland scene, With blooming garlands in her train, To wekome summer back again. THE DAINTY BIT PLAN. Our May had an e'e to a man, Nae less than the newly-placed Preacher: And we plotted.a dainty bit-plan For trapping our spiritual teacher, O, we were sly, sly! 0 , we were sly and sleekit! But ne'er say a herring is dry until it be reestit and smeekit. �We treated young Mr M'Gock, We plied him wi' tea and wi' toddy ; And we praised every, word that he spoke, Till we put him maist out o' the body. 0 , we were sly, sly! &c. Frae the kirk we were never awa', Except when frae hame he was helping ; And then May, and often us a', Gaed far and near after him skelping. 0 , we were sly, sly! &c. We said aye, which our neighbours thought droll, That to hear him gang through wi' a sermon, Was, (though a wee dry on the whole,) As refreshing's the dew 011 Mount Hermon. O, we were sly, sly! &c. But to come to the heart 0' the nit— The dainty bit plan that we plotted Was to get a subscription afi-t, And a watch to the minister voted. 0 , we "were sly, sly! &c. The young women folk 0' the kirk, By turns lent a hand in collecting; But May took the feck o' the wark, And the trouble the rest 0' directing. 0 , we were sly, sly! &c. A gran' watch was gotten belyve, And May wi* sma' prigging, consentit To be ane 0' a party 0' five To gang to the Manse and present it. 0 , we were sly, sly! &c. �6 We a' gied a word o' advice To May in a deep consultation, To hae something to say unca nice, And to speak for the hale deputation. 0 , we were sly, sly! &c. Taking present and speech baith in hand, May delivered a bonny palaver To let Mr M'Gock understand How zealous she was in his favour. 0 , we were sly, sly! &c. She said that the gift was to prove, That his female friends valued him highly, But it eouldna express a' their love; And she glintit her e'e at him slyly. 0 , we were sly, sly ! &c. He put the gold watch in his fab, And proudly he said he wad wear i t ; And, after some flattering gab, Tauld May he was gaun to be marryit. 0 , we were sly, sly! 0 , were sly and sleekit! But Mr M'Gock was nae gowk, wi' our dainty bit plar to be cleekit. May came liame wi' her heart at her mouth, And became, frae that hour, a Dissenter, And now she's renewing her youth Wi* some hopes o' the burgher Precentor. 0 , but she's sly, sly! O, but she's sly and sleekit! And cleverly opens ae door as soon as anither is steekit. �7 THE BACHELOR. My master was an auld Batch, Baitli crabbed and uncivil: Than kiss a lass, (except when f o u ) He'd sooner kiss the d 1. An' he had gowd and sil'er baith, As meikle's fill a barrel; A gaudy house, an' grand estate, Might serve a duke or earl. But woman's ways he coudna thole— The cause o' a disasters ; He'd sneer, an' jeer, an' curse the sex. And ca' them downright wasters. But then, again, when he was fu', His love was overbearing; He'd kiss an' slake about my mou', Nae wife nor sil'er fearing. As I was growing auld mysel', And lovers growing scanty, I thought upon my master's house, His gear an' sil'er plenty. So I got witnesses ae night, When he was reeling rarely, To hear his tender promises, An' see us bedded fairly. He sought me to his chamber ha', And troth, I didna swither ; But gave a sweet complying smile, An' alf to bed thegither. But oh! that morn when he awoke ! Ere he could weel consider, �8 He drew his arms frae 'bout my neck, As if he'd touch'd an adder! " Weel, B e t ! " says he, what brings you here My troth, biit you re a trimmer! Gae, rise, an' mend the kitchen fire, You lewd lascivious liramer ! " " Na, na, gudeman ! do that yoursel'— I'll rise when I am ready ; I was your servant yesterday, But now I am your l a d y ! " But wha could paint his waspish face, As I the fatfts were tilling! His miser-moans, his sii'er-shrinks, Were like a cuddy's yelling! W i ' rage, he fell upon the floor, And gi'ed a mar like thun'er; But matrimony's chains are strong— There's few they'll not keep un'er. Now since his single woes are past, An' lie has got a baby, His looks liae quite anither cast, His dress is never shabby. A n ' aye he blesses Bet his wife, The night she nail'd him till her, An' wadna be a Batch again For a' his Ian' an' sil'er. J t1 K'c 'xiA ?xi_> . if i w j 'ed &%3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 036: Title-page illustration of a young man wearing a straw hat. He is sitting on a rock with a bowl in his hand. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Five Excellent Songs. The Constant Shepherd. The Wreath. Welcome Summer Back Again. The Dainty Bit Plan. The Bachelor. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Constant Shepherd The Wreath Welcome Summer Back Again The Dainty Bit Plan The Bachelor Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923314893505154">s0427b18</a> Description An account of the resource 25 printed at foot of title page Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow # of Woodcuts: 1 Activity: eating Architecture: house Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: no date Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): working class Food & Drink Gender: man/men Nature: flower(s) Nature: rock(s) Occupation: shepherd Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1f9e0e7311f253371ae9b59d3ac4a877.jpg 1aa74bfb5336955e60672ed35121e86c Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut portraying a young woman with a basket on her lap, sittting in front of a door https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f239a56263af9e6aa2f25ec2c6ba5a2d.pdf 7372e7aa4e6d63af37b79c5e0e298b96 PDF Text Text WITH THE BY WILLIAM SEQUEL. F0BBES, A.M. LATE SCHOOLMASTER AT PETERCOULTER. �PREFACE. If this offend when ye peruse, Pray, reader, let this me excuse, Myself I only here accuse, Who am the cause, That e'er ye had this piece of news To split your jaws. For had I right the gully guided, And wi' a wife mysel' provided, To keep me frae that wrae betide it, That's kent to'a', I'd stay'd at hame, or near beside i t ; Now that's awa'. B e wiser then, and do what's right, And mind your business wi' might, Lest unexpected gloomy night, Should you surround An' mingle a' your pleasure bright, Wi'grief profound. And, bonny lasses, mind this rhyme, As true as three and sax mak nine, If ye commit ye ken what crime, And turn unweel, There'll something wamble in your wamo Just like an eel. �THE DOMINIE DEPOSED. P A R T I. SOME Dominies are sae bias'd, That o'er the dyke themsells tliey east, They drink an' rant, an' live sae fast, This drives them on, To draw a weapon at the last, That sticks Mess John. Thus going on from day to day, Neglecting still to watch and pray, And teach the little anes A, B, C, An* Pater No^tpr, Quite ither thoughts our Lettergae, Begins to foster. For, laying by baitli fear and shame, They slily venture on that game, All Fours, I think, they call't by name, Baitli auld an' rife. Than in the play, Mess John is slain Wi' his ain knife. �4 'Tis kind, therefore, I wimia strive My doughty deeds here to descrive, A lightsome life still did I thrive, Did never itch, By out an' in abouts to drive, For to mak rich. I ne'er laid money up in store, Into a hole behind the door, A shilling, penny, less or more, I aye did scatter, 'Tis just, now, I should drink, therefore, Sma* beer or water. I never sooner siller got, But a' my pouches it would plot, And scorch them fair, it was sae hot; Then to get clear Of it, I swill'd it down my throat, In ale or beer. Thus, a' my failing was my glass, An* anes to please a bonny lass, I, like a silly amorous ass, Drew forth my gully, An' through an' through at the first pas*, Ran Mr. Willy. Sae far this mad, though merry fit, I was sair vexed, and forced to flit, They plagu'd me sae wi' pay and sit, Quo* they, You thief, How durst you try to steal a bit Forbidden beef? �0 then, I liumbly plead that vos, Would make it your continual rnos> Wi' hearts sincere an' open o$, You'd often pray, A tali malo libera nos, 0 Dominie• For, hark, I'll tell you what they think, Since I left handling pen an' ink: Wae worth that weary soup o' drink He lik'd sae weel, He drank it a', left not a clink His throat to swill. He lik'd, still sitting 011 his doup, To view the pint or cutty stoup, And sometimes lasses overcoup, Upo' their keels, This made the lad at length to loup, And tak his heels. Then was it not a grand presumption, To ca' him doctor 0' the function ? He dealt too much in barley-unction For his profession : He never took a good injunction Frae kirk or session. An' to attend, he was not willing, His school, sae lang's he had a shilling, But lov'd to be where there was filling Good punch or ale, For him to rise was just like killing Or first to fail. �His fishing-wand, his sneeshing box, A fowling piece, to shoot muir cocks, An' hunting hare through craigs and rocks, This was his game, Still left the young anes, so the fox Might worry them. When he committed a' these tricks, For which he weel deserv'd his licks, Wi' red-coats he did intermix, When he foresaw The punishment the kirk inflicts On fowks that fa'. Then to his thrift he bade adieu, When wi* his tail he stopp'd his mou\ He changed his coat to red and blue, An' like a sot Did the poor Clerk convert into A Royal Scot. An' now fowks use me at their wills, My name is blawn out o'er the hills, At banquets, feasts, a' mouths it fills, 'Twixt each, Here's £' thee, 'Tis sore traduc'd at kilns and mills, And common smithy. Then, Dominies, I you beseech, Keep very far from Bacchus' reach, He drown'd a' my cares to preach, Wi' his ma't-bree, I've wore sair banes by mony a bleech 0' his tap-tree. �If venus does possess your mind, Her antics ten times warse ye'll find, For to ill tricks she's sae inclin'd, For praticks past, She blew me here before the wind: Cauld be her cast. Within years less than half a dizen, She made poor Maggy lie in jizen, When little Jock brake out of prison, On gude yule-day, This of my quiet cut the wisen, Whan he wan gae. Let readers then tak better heed, For fear they kiss mair than they read, In case they wear the sacken weed, For fornication, Or leave the priest-craft shot to dead For procreation. The maist o* them, like blind an' lame, Have nae aversion to the game, But better 'twere to tak her hame, Their pot to cook, An* teach his boys to write a theme, And mind their book. Then may they sit at liame, an* please, Themselves wi' gathering in their fees, While I must face mine enemies, Or shaw my dock: There's odds 'twixt handling pens wi* ease An' a firelock. �Sae shall they never mount the stool, Whereon the lasses greet an' howl, Tho' deil a tear, scarce fair or foul, Comes o'er their cheeks ; Their mind's not there, 'tis spinning wool, Or mending breeks. The Kirk then pardons no such prots, They must tell down good five pounds scots, Though they should pledge their petticoats, An' gae arse bare ; The least price there is twenty groats, An' prigging fair. If then the lad does not her wed, Poor Meg some feigned tears maun slied. Her minny crooks her mou' and dad, They fart an' fling ; " 0 wow that e'er I made the bed," Then does she sing. Thus for her Maidenhead she moans, Bewailing what is past; Her pitcher's dash'd against the stones, And broken at the last, P A R T II. A' Maids, therefore, I do bemoan, Betwixt the rivers Dee and Don, If anes they get a taste o' yon, Though by the laird, The toy-mutch maun then gae on, Nae mair bare-hair'd �Yet wanton Venus, that she-b—h, Does a' our senses sae bewitch, An* fires our blood wi' sic an itch, That aftentimes, There is nae help but to commit, Some Ill-far'd crimes. Yet some they are sae very willing, At ony time they'll tak> a shilling, But he that learnt them first that spelling, Or Meg or Nell, Be sure, to him they'll lay an egg in ; This some can tell, Unthinking things ! it is their creed, If some sic things be done wi' speed, They're safe, 'tis help in time o' need, Nae after-claps : Tho' nine months aft brings quick or dead, Into their laps. Experience thus makes me speak, I ance was hooked wi' the cleek, I almost had beshit my breek, When Maggy told, That by her saul, not e'en a week Young Jack would hold. She was sae stiff she cou'd not loot; Your pranks she says, are now found out, The kirk and you maun hae a bout ; 111 mat you fare, 'Tis a' your ain, you need na doubt Ilk hilt an hair. �10 Alas that e'er I saw your face, I can nae langer hide the case ; Had I foreseen this sad disgrace, Nae man nor you, Shou'd e'er hae met me in yon place, Or kiss'd my mou\ 0 Dominie, you're dispossest, Ye hae defil'd your holy nest, The warld sees ye hae transgrest, I'm at my time, Ye dare nae mair, now do your best, Let gae the rhyme. Ohon! how weel I might liae kent, When first to you I gae consent, Wi' me to mak your merriment, How a' would be : Alas ! that e'er my loom I lent, That day to thee. Wae to the night I first began To mix my moggans wi' thee man : 'Tis needless now to curse or ban, But deil hae me, Ye'll pay an' sit, for sit ye can, An' that ye'll see. 1 heard her as I heard her not, But time and place had quite forgot, I guess'd Young Jack fell to my lot; For I could tell, It was too short her petticoat, By half an ell. �11 Wi' blubber'd cheeks, and watry nose, Her weary story she did close ; I said the best, and aff she goes Just like a thief, An' took a glass to interpose, 'Twixt mirth and grief. Yet would hae gi'en my ha'f year's fee, Had Maggy then been jesting me, Had tartan purry, meal an' bree, Or buttr'y brose, Been kilting up her petticoats Aboon her hose. But time that tries such praticks past, Brought me out o'er the coals fu' fast; Poor Maggy took a sudden blast, And o'er did tumble, For something in her wame at last Began to rumble. Our folk ca'd it the windy gravel, That grips the guts beneath the navel, But laith was she for to unravel Their gross mistake, Weel kend she, that she was in travail, Wi' little Jack. But, to put matters out of doubt, Young John within would fain been out, An' but an' ben made sic a rout Wi* hands and feet, That she began twa-fauld about The house to creep. �12 Then dool an' sorrow interveen'd ; For Jack nae langer could be screen'd, My lass upon her breast she lean'd, An' gae a skirl. The canny wives came there conveen'd, An' in a whirl. They wrought together in a crowd ; By this time I was under cloud ; Yet bye and bye I understood, They made one more, For Jack he tun'd his pipe, and loud Wi' cries did roar. Wi' that they blam'd the Session-Clark ; Where is the lown hid in the dark ? For he's the father o' this wark : Swear to his mitlier, He's just as like him as ae lark Is like anitlier. About me then there was a din, They sought me out through thick an' thin, Wi' deil hae her, an deil liae him, He's o'er the dyke ; Our Dominie lias now dung in His arse a pike. Ye may weel judge I was right sweer, This uncouth meeting to draw near, Yet forc'd I was then to appear, Altho' perplex'd; But listen how, and ye shall hear, The hags me vex'cl �The carlings Maggy had sae cleuked, Before young Jack was rightly hooked, They made lier twice as little booked, But to gae on, 0 then ! how like a fool I looked, When I saw John. The Cummer then came to me bent, And gravely, did my son present ; She bade me kiss him, be content, Then wish'd me joy ; An' tauld it was—what luck had sent, A. waly boy. In ilka member, litli an' lim', Its mouth, its nose, its cheeks, its chin, 'Tis a' like daddy, just like him, His very self, Though it look'd cankered sour and grim, Like ony elf. Then whisp'ring now to me she harked, Indeed your hips they should be yarked, Nae mair Mess John, nor dare ye Clarkit, Faith ye hae ca'd Your hogs into a bonny markit, Indeed my lad. But tell me, man, (I should say master,) What muckle deil in your way chas'd her ? Lowns ba-ith ! but I think I hae plac'd her, Now on her side, My coming here has not disgrac'd her, At the Yule-tide. �14 An' for yoursell, ye dare na look Hereafter ever on a book, Your mou' about the psalms to crook ; Ye've play'd the fool, Anither now your post maun bruik, An' you the stool. She bann'd her saul, and then she blest it, That in the Kirk-books it would be lifted, An' thus the weary wife insisted, Our Lettergae Will sit whar he will not be pish't at By dogs some day. She wrung her hands until they cracked. An' sadly me she sham'd an' lacked— Ah, man ! the Priest, how will he tak' it, Whan he hears tell, How Maggy's mitten ye hae glacket, Ye ken yoursell. The Session-Clark to play such prankies, Ye'll stan' I fear upon your shankies, An' maybe slaver in the brankies ; It could na miss, But lifting o' the killimankies, Would turn to this. A toothless Howdy, auld and teugh, Says, Cummer husht, we hae eneugh, Thirsh mony ane has touch'd the pleugh, As gude ash he, An' yetsh gane backlensh o'er the heugli, Shae let him be. �15 Hesh no, quoth she, though lie'sh be lear'd, That ye ken what, they hae crept near't, Far you an I hash aft-times heard O' nine or ten, Wha thush the clergy hath beshmear'd Wi' their ain pen. The auld mou d wives thus did me taunt, Though a' was true, I must needs grant. But ae thing maistly made me faint, Poor Meg lay still, An' look'd as loesome as a saint That kend nae ill. Then a* the giglets young and gaudy, Sware by their sauls, I might be wady. For getting sic a lusty lacldy, Sae like mysell; An' made me blush wi' speaking baudy, 'Bout what befel. Thus auld an' young their verdict had, 'Bout Maggy's being brought to bed, I thought my fill, yet little said, Or had to say, To reap the fruit o' sic a trade, On gude-yule day. What sometimes in the mou is sweet, Turns bitter in the wame ; I grumbled sair to get the geetf At sic a merry time. P A R T III. ISTow Maggy's twasome in a swoon, A counsel held condemns the loon, �16 The cushle mushle thus gaed roun', Our bonny Clark, He'll get the dud an* sarken gown, That ugly sark. Consider, sirs, now this his crime, 'Tis no like hers, or yours, or mine, He's just next thing to a divine, An' vow, 'tis odd, Sic men should a* their senses tine, An' fear o' God. 'Tis strange what mak's kirk folk sae stupit, To mak or meddle wi' the fuca'it, Or mint to preach in sic a pu'pit, The senseless fools, Far better for them hunt the tyouchot, Or teach their schools. They hunt about frae house to house, Just as a tailor hunts a louse, Still girding at the barley-juice An' aft get drunk, They plump into some open sluice, Where a' is sunk. A plague upo' that oil o' ma't, That weary drink is a' their fau't, It made our Dominie to hal't ; The text fulfil, Which bids cast out the sa'rless sa't, On the dunghill. �17 They are sae fed, they lie sae saft, They are sae hain'd, they grow sae daft; This breeds ill wiles, ye ken fu' aft In the black coat, Till poor Mess John, and the priest-craft, Gaes to the pot. I tald them then, it was but wicked To add affliction to the afflicted, But to it they were sae addicted, They said therefore : The clout about me should be pricked, At the kirk-door. But yet not kirk nor consterie, Quoth they, can ask the taudy fee, Tell them in words just twa or three, The deil a plack, For tarry-breeks should ay gae free, An' he's the Clark. I then was dumb! how I was griey'd ! What would I gi'en to be reliev'd! They us'd me waur than I had thiev'd, Some strain'd their lungs, An' very loud they me mischiev'd Wi' their ill tongues. Had you been there to hear and see The manner how they guided me, An' greater penance wha could dree ! A Lettergae, Wi' sic a pack confin'd to be, On gude Yule-day. �18 Young Jack wi' skirls he pierc'd the skie I pray VI that death might close his eyes, But did not meet with that surprise, To my regret, Sae had nae help, but up an' cries llet drinks to get. This laid their din ; the drink was stale, An' to't they gaed wi* tooth an' nail, An' wives whase rotten tusks did fail Wi' bread an' cheese, They birl'd fu' fast at butter'd ale, To gie them ease. They ca' upon me, then dadda, Come, tune your fiddle, play us a Jigg or hornpipe, nae mair SOL F A , My bonny cock ; The kirk an' you maun pluck a craw About young Jock. Flay up, Sae merry as we hae been, Or, Wat ye wha we met yestreen, Or, Lass will ye lend me your leam i Or, Soups o' brandy, Or, Gin the kirk wad let's alane, Or, Houghmagandy. Sic tunes as these, yea, three or four, They call'd for, ill mat they cour, Play, cries the cummer, wi' a glour, The wanton toudy, Wha' did the Dominie ding o'er, Just heels o'er goudy. �19 O' music I had little skill, But as I could, I played my till, It was my best to shaw good will ; Yet a' my drift, Was best how I might win the hill The wives to shift. Sae leaving them to drink het ale, I slipt awa', an' let them rail: Then running till my breath did fail, I was right glad Frae kirk and wives to tak' leg bail,— Nae doubt they said. The Lettergae has plaid the fool, Jnd shifted the repenting-stool, To kirk and session bids good-day, Hell o'er the hills and far away. THE SEQUEL. Now, loving friends I liae you left, Ye ken I neither stole nor reft, But when I found myself infeft, In a young Jack, I did resolve to change the haft For that mis tak'. An' reasons mae I had anew, For I had neither horse nor cow ; My stock took wings an aff it flew, Sae a' was gone, An' deil a flee had I was new Except young John. �20 Too aft my thirsty throat to cool, I went to visit the punch bowl, Which makes me now wear reddish wool Instead o' black ; Or I must foot the cutty stool Wi' deil a plaek. The chappen-stoup, the pint an' gill, Too aft I caused for to fill, A y loving those wha would sit still, An' wet the mouth, Ne'er minding that the T u l l o - h i l l , Leads people south. 0 but that loving laird Kings wells My blessings flow where his foot swells, Lang life to him whate'er befals, God be his guide, He's cured a thousand thirsty sauls, An' mine beside. O had I but thae days again, Which I sae freely spent in vain, I'd strive some better for to ken, What future chance Should bla^ me here out o'er the main, An' sae near France. But since that ills maun ay befall The ehiel that will be prodigal; When wasted to the very spaul He turns his tusk, For want o' comfort to his saul, On hungry husk. �21 Now since I'm aff sae mony a mile, There's naething got without some toil, I'll wait ; cross fortune yet may smile, Come want, come wealth, I'll tak' a pint in the mean while, To Heilden's health. Sae, for a time, friends fare ye weel, My pot companions, true and leel, I wish ye all a merry yule, Much mirth and glee Nae mair young Jacks into the creel That day for me. Some other Yule may yet cast up, When we again shall meet, To drown our sorroivs in a cup, In case we live to see't. E L E G Y ON M A G G Y JOHNSTON, Who died Anno Domini, 1711 Reeky mourn in sable hue, Let foutli o' tears dreep like May dew, To bra' tippeny bid adieu, Which we wi' greed, Bended as fast as she could brew, But now she's dead. Auld �22 To tell the truth now, Maggy dang, 0* customers she had a bang ; For lairds an' sutors a' did tlirang To drink bedeen : The barn an'yard was aft sae tlirang, We took the green. An' there by dizens we lay down, Syne sweetly ca'd the healths aroun', To bonny lasses, black or brown, As we lo'ed best; In bumpers we dull cares did drown, An' took our rest. When in our pouch we fand some clinks, An' took a turn o'er Bruntsfield Links, Aften in Maggy's, at Hay-jinks, We guzzl'd scuds, Till we could scarce, wi' liale-out drinks Cast alf our duds. We drank an' drew, an' fill'd again, O wow ! but we were blythe an' fain : When ony had their count mistane, O it was nice, To hear us a' cry pick your bane, An' spell your dice. Fou close we us'd to drink an' rant, Until we baith did glowr and gaunt, An' pish, an' spue, an' yesk, an' maunt, Riglit swash I trow, Then aff auld stories we did chaunt, Whan we were fou. �23 Whan we were wearied at the gouff, Then Maggy Johnston's was our houff, Now a' our gamesters may sit douff, Wi' hearts like lead. Death wi' his rung reach'd her a youlf^ An' sae she's dead. Maun we be forc'd thy skill to tine, For which we will right sair repine ? Or hast thou left to bairns o' thine, The pauky knack, 0 brewing ale amaist like wine, That gar'd us crack ? Sae brawly did a pease-scon toast, Biz i' the quaff, and flee the frost, There we gat fu' wi' little cost, An' muckle speed ; Now wae worth death, our sport's a' lost, Since Maggy's dead. Ae summer night I was sae fu', Amarig the riggs I gaed to spew, Syne down on a green bank I trow, I took a nap, An* sought a night balillilu, As soun's a tap. An' whan the dawn began to glow, 1 hirsled up my dizzy pow, Frae 'mang the corn like worry-kow, Wi' banes fu' sair, An' kend nae mail* than if a yow, How I came there. �24 Some said it was the pith o* broom, That she stow'd in her masking loom, "Which in our heads rais'd sic a foom, Or some wild seed, Which aft the chappen-stoup did toom, But fill'd our head. But now sinec 'tis sae that we must, Not in the best ale put our trust, But when we're auld return to dust, Without remead; Why should we tak' it in disgust, Since Maggy's dead. 0' wardly comforts she was rife, An' liv'd a lang and hearty life, Right free o' care, or toil, or strife, Till she was stale ; An' kend to be a canny wife At brewing ale. Then farewell Maggy, douce and fell, 0' brewers a' ye bore the bell ; Let a' your gossips yelp and yell, An' without feed, Guess whither ye're in heaven or hell, They're sure ye're dead. riNis. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 037: Title-page illustration of a young woman with a basket on her lap sitting in front of a door. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Dominie Deposed, with the sequel. To which is added, Maggy Johnston's Elegy. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Maggy Johnston's Elegy Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 15 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923301223505154">s0425b16</a> Description An account of the resource 141 printed at foot of title page Woodcut # Illustration of a young woman with a basket on her lap, sitting in front of a door. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Type The nature or genre of the resource elegy Architecture: door(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: elegy Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: woman/women Object: basket(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/bd7dc0d946e2ca5c31a92ea651392cd3.jpg 18d07eccb1ae26b069b0573232a390eb Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a young woman (milkmaid?) wearing a hat and carrying two buckets slung over hoops encircling her skirt https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ae7dcca0e12e93b94a03ed32b6960ad5.pdf bb21e82f7fe6864b49627a8896069158 PDF Text Text FOUR FAVOURITE WILLIAM AND GO, Y A R R O W SONGS MARGARET. FLOWER. ROBIN" A N D ' A N N A . COULD A M A N B E SECURE. te boaia bud Oil i gnmoqo JauL Md evoi ok PRINTED FOR TIIE BOOKSELLERS. • iaoxlo )d ,fi)[ rjty; .oLeq W 1 3 eaoi 9 d l .oiitil oiatodf boib �HrJOr>I 8BHQ8 ITIflUOYA SONftS WILLIAM AND MARGARET. 'Twas at the silent solemn hour, When night and morning meet; In glided Margaret's grimly ghost, And stood at William s feet. Her face was like an April morn Clad in a wintry cloud, And clay-cold was her lily hand That held her sable shroud. So shall the fairest face appear, When youth and years are flown Such is the robe that kings must wear. When death has reft their crown. _ * Her bloom was like the springing flower That sips the silver dew ; The rose was budded in her cheek, Just opening to the view. But love had, like the canker-worm, Consum'd her early prime, The rose grew pale, and left her cheek; She died before her time. �" Awake!" she cried, " thy true love calls, Come from her midnight grave : Now let thy pity hear the maid Thy love refus'd to save. This is the dumb and dreary hour When injured ghosts complain, When yawning graves give up their dead ; T o haunt the faithless swain. Bethink thee, William! of thy fault, Thy pledge and broken oath ; And give me back my maiden vow, And give me back my troth. Why did you promise love to me, And not that promise keep ? Why did you swear my eyes were bright, Yet leave those eyes to weep ? How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake ? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break ? Why did you say my lip was sweet, Arid made the scarlet pale ? And why did I, young witless maid! Believe the flattering tale ? That face, alas! no more is fair, Those lips no longer red! �4 Dark are my eyes, now clos'd in death, And every charm is fled. The hungry worm my sister is, This winding-sheet I wear ; And cold and weary lasts our night, Till the last morn appear. But, hark! the cock has warn'd me hence A long and late adieu! Come see, false man! how low she lies Who died for love of you.' 4 The lark sung loud, the morning smil'd With beams of rosy red; Pale William quak'd in every limb, And, raving, left his bed. A i&iit.nyvi $ h»n Kif/. He hied him to the fatal place Where Margaret's body lay, And stretch'd him on the green-grass turf That wrapt her breathless clay. m M '- ; miii 19Y Dili? And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name, And thrice he wept full sore ; Then laid his cheek to her cold grave, And word spake never more. GO, Y A R R O W FLOWER, Go, Yarrow flow'r, thou slialt be blest To lie on beauteous Marv's breast; �Go, Yarrow flow'r so sweetly smelling, Is there on earth so soft a dwelling ? Go, lovely flow'r, thou prettiest flow'r That ever smil'd in Yarrow bow'r ; Go, daughter of the dewy morning, With Alves' blush the fields adorning. Go, lovely rose ! what dost thou here, Ling'ring away thy short-liv'd year, Vainly shining, idly blooming, Thy unenjoyed sweets consuming ? Yain is thy radiant garlies hue, No hand to pull, no eye to view; What are thy charms, no heart desiring? What profits beauty, none admiring. Go, Yarrow flow'r, to Yarrow maid, And, on her panting bosom laid, There, all thy native form confessing; The charm of beauty is possessing. Come, Yarrow maid, from Yarrow field; What pleasure can the desert yield ? Come to my breast, O! all excelling, Is there on earth so kind a dwelling ? Come, my dear maid ? thou prettiest maid That ever smil'd in Yarrow shade: Come, sister of the dewy morning, With Alves' blush the dance adorning. Come, lovely maid ! love calls thee here ; Linger no more thy fleeting year, Vainly shining, idly blooming, Thy unenjoyed sheets consuming. �Vain is thy radiant garlies hue, No hand to press, no eye to view ; What are thy charms, no heart desiring; What profits beauty, none admiring ? Come, Yarrow maid, with Yarrow rose, Thy maiden graces all disclose; Come, blest by all, to all a blessing, The charm of beauty is possessing. ROBIN AND ANNA. She listens ; — " 'Tis the wind," she cries ; The moon, that rose so full and bright, Is now o'ercast: she looks, she sighs, She fears 'twill be a stormy night. Not long was Anna wed. Her mate, A fisherman, was out at sea ; The night is dark, the hour is late, The wind is high—and where is lie? " Oh ! who would love, Oh ! who would wed A wandering fisherman, to be A wretched, lonely wife, and dread Each breath that blows, when he's at sea ! w Not long was Anna wed. One pledge Of tender love her bo*om bore^; The storm comes down! the billows rage, Its father is not yet on shore. �" Oh! who would think her portion bless'd A wandering seaman's wife to be, To hug the infant to her breast, Whose father's on a stormy sea!" The thunder bursts! the lightning falls ! The easement rattles with the rain, And, as the gusty tempest bawls, The little cottage quakes again!— She doesn't speak ; she doesn't sigh! She gazes on her infant dear— A smile lights up the cherub's eye, Which dims' its mother's with a tear \ " Oh! who would be a seaman's wife! Oh! who would bear a seaman's child; To tremble for her husband's life, To weep—because her infant smil'd!" Ne'er hadst thou born a seaman's boy— Ne'er had thy husband left the shore— Thou ne'er hadst felt the frantic joy, To see—thy Robin at the door! To press his weather-beaten cheek, To kiss it dry and warm again, To weep the joy thou couldst not speak— So pleasure's in the debt of pain! Thy cheerful fire, thy plain repast. Thy little couch of love I ween, �8 Were ten times sweeter than the last—* And not a cloud that night was seen I A happy pair ; the pains you know, Still hand in hand with pleasure come ; For often does the tempest blow, And Robm still is safe at home. COULD A M A N BE SECURE. Could a. man be secure, Tba^ his Ufe would, endure As of old for a thousand long <years, What arts might he know, What acts might he do, And all without hurry or care, But we that ,h ave but span - long lives The.tfiicke'r must lay on the pleasure') And since time will not stay, We'll add the night unto the, day, And thus well fill the measures. ftd* jlol bdmi 'is* on uodT 'i^ojb exit iii nf/JoR -,'dt- ~\»om o'F femfo nei^orJ-teiltow id ><. • <q o T .- • • itfoq' Jon teMtroo rrofli oT ! ami to ido/« -i-li in ^eiUrcJsolq <>8 • a •h{ Y.l) ,<vu\ InllO-jLiD 7J T vol ' k tfwoz d v i l viCT � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 038: Title-page illustration of a milkmaid carrying two buckets. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Four Favourite Songs. William and Margaret. Go, Yarrow Flower. Robin and Anna. Could a man be secure. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. William and Margaret Go, Yarrow Flower Robin and Anna Could a man be secure Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923316943505154">s0424b15</a> Description An account of the resource 10 printed at the foot of title page Woodcut #38: Illustration on title-page of a milkmaid carrying two buckets Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/bba4d8376bb1cd853c2acdab0952d5ba.jpg dfdef59c7c6ee5a9a43e8db5cd6a0bb2 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a dancing man wearing hat and open jacket with raised hand https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1b19ce59ac4208a2a2d95a0895991488.pdf ab0415a22710477919a0b02365a5488d Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 003: Title-page illustration of a dancing sailor wearing a hat, scarf, and open jacket. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Four Favourite Comic Songs. The cork leg and steam arm. The great sea snake. The sailor's consolation. The wonderful nose. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The cork leg and steam arm The great sea snake The sailor's consolation The wonderful nose Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923316933505154">s0424b14</a> Description An account of the resource 28 printed at the foot of title page Woodcut #03: Illustration on title-page of a dancing sailor wearing a hat, scarf, and open jacket Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Wit and Humor # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): jacket Fashion (Clothing): pants Fashion (Clothing): sailor uniform Fashion (Clothing): scarves Fashion (Clothing): top hat Fashion (Clothing): waist coat Fashion (Clothing): working class Gender: man/men Occupation : sailor Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6f4ff48b239a06951ee8a147bde8e724.jpg 7d77e2e20f641d407c58a9b54bd9d72a https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/8a3653abb97863d1c0882ad329d40dc3.pdf a750e249a6490dabfb7453d95310dd5f PDF Text Text THE LAIRD OF COCKPEN. THE LASS OF ARRANTEENIE. MIRREN GIBE'S PUBLIC HOUSE. JACK'S THE LAD. GLASGOW: m, PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �SONGS THE LAIRD OF COCK-PEN. Tlie Laird o' Cockpen lie's proud an' lie's great, His mind is ta'en up wi' the things o' the state, He wanted a wife his braw house to keep, But favour wi' wooin' was fasliious to seek. 13 01111 by the dyke-side a lady did dwell; At his table-liead he thocht she'd look well; M'Clish's ae dochter o' Claverseha' Lee ; A pennyless lass wi' a lang pedigree. His wig was weel-powder'd, as guid as when new, His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue, He put 011 a ring, a sword and cock'd hat, And wha could refuse the Laird wi' a' that. He took the grey mare, and rade cannily, An' rapped at the yett o' Claverseha' Lee, Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, She's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen. Mistress Jean was making the elder-flower wine,— And what brings the Laird at sic a like time, �3 She put aff her apron, an' on her silk gown, Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and ran awa down. An* when she came down, she bowed fu' low, An* what was his errand he soon let her know, Amaz'd was the Laird when the lady said—na ; And wi' a laigh courtesy she turn'd awa. Diunfounder'd he Y/as—he nae sigh did gie ; He mounted his mare and rade cannily; An' aften he thoclit as he gaed through the glen, She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen. Near to the house amang the lang trees, There he did meet sweet Jeanie Greenlees ; At his table she sits like a white-tappit hen, And mickle thinks she o' the Laird o' Cockpen. THE LASS OF ARRANTEEME. Far lone amang the Highland hills, 'Midst Nature's wildest grandeur, By rocky dens and woody glens With weary steps I wander. The langsome way, the darksome day, The mountain mist sae rainy, Are nought to me, when gaun to thee— Sweet lass of Arranteenie. �4 Yon mossy rose-bud clown the howe, Just op'ning fresh and bonnie, Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazel bough, And's scarcely seen by ony. Sae sweet amidst her native hills, Obscurely blooms my Jeanie, Mair fair and gay than rosy May— The flower of Arranteenie, Now from the mountain's lofty brow I view the distant ocean, There ay'rice guides the bounding prow, Ambition courts promotion. Let fortune pour her golden store, Her laurel'd favours many, Give me but this, my soul's first wish, The lass of Arranteenie. MIRREN GIBB'S PUBLIC HOUSE. Last Monday night at sax o'clock, To Mirren Gibb's I went, man, To meet wi' some auld cronies there, It was my hale intent, man. So clown we sat and pried the vill, Syne I pu'd out my sneeshin' mill, An' took a pinch wi' right good-will, O' beggar's brown, the best in town, Then sent it roun' about the room, To gie ilka ane a scent, man. �% The sneeshin' mill—the cap gaed round, The joke, the crack an' a', man, 'Bout markets, trade, and politics, To wear the time awa, man. Ye never saw a blither set 0' queer auld-fashion'd bodies met, For fient a grain o' pride nor pet, Nor eating care got footing there ; But friendship rare, aye found sincere, And hearts without a flaw, man. To cringing corn tiers kings may blaw How rich they are and great, man. But we outstrip their kingships far Wi' a' their regal state, man. For Lucky's swats sae brisk and fell, An' T 's snuff sae sharp and snell, Garr'd ilk ane quite forget himsel'; Made young the auld, inflam'd the cauld, And fir'd the saul with projects bauld, That clar'cl the power o' fate, man. But what are a' sic mighty schemes When ance the spell is broke, man, A set o' maut inspired whims That end in perfect smoke, man. An' what like some disaster keen Can chase the glamour frae our een, And bring us to oursel's again ; As was the fate o' this auld pate, When that night late I took the gate As croupe as onv cock, man. �6 For sad misluck, without my hat, I doiting cam' awa, man ; An' when I down the Dry gate cam, The win' began to blaw, man. When I cam to the Drygate Brig, It whipt awa my good brown wig, That whirl'd like ony whirligig, As up it flew out o' my view, While I stood glowring, waefu* blue, Wi' wide-extended jaw, man. When I began to grape fort syne, Thrang poutering wi' my staff, man, I coupet owre a muckle stane, And skail'd my pickle snuff, man. My staff out o' my hand did jump. And hit my snout a dreadfu' thump, Which rais'd a most confoundet lump ; But whaur it flew I never knew, Yet sair I rue the mark sae blue, It looks sae fleesome wauf, man, Now wad ye profit by my loss, Then tak' advice frae me, man, And ne'er let common sense tak' wing On fumes o' barley bree, man. For drink can heeze a man sae high, As gar his head maist touch the sky, But down he tumbles by and bye, Wi' sic a thud 'mang stanes and mud, That aft it's good if dirt and blood Be a' he has to dree, man. �JACKS THE LAD. Our ship's a-port, so here I be, With heart as light as cork, d'ye see ; 'Pon larboard quarter Poll is jigging, Dress'd all in her Sunday rigging— Wench and fiddle always make a sailor glad ; Old Nipperkin, the landlord, keeps the grog afloat, Kindly is the liquor handed down each other throat; For if ever sailor took delight in Swigging, kissing, dancing, fighting, Dam'me! I make bold to say that Jack's the lad. With my tol de rol, &c. Clieerly, my lads, ye know Jack Spry, So full of romps and rigs that I—D'ye hear the merry fiddle going ? Sblood! it sets me off a-toeing. That's he—Catgut, College Hornpipe, brisk old dad! Now for a reel—Sir David Hunter Blair—that's Scotch ; Or Langolee, or anything but French or Dutch; For if ever fellow took delight in Swigging, kissing, dancing, fighting, Dam'me! I make bold to say that Jack's the lad. With my tol de rol, &c. My locker's rich—the devil's mite! Why, here's a pretty rig!—Yes—I'm right; An old friend, like a blubbering ninny Look'd distress'd like—got my guinea. �8 Can't help snivelling, somehow, when I see folks sad ; But howsomever, should I've luck to fall once more Longside a Mounseer, homeward bound, he'll pay the score ; For if ever fellow took delight in Swigging, kissing, dancing, fighting, Dam'me! I make bold to say that Jack's the lad. With my tol de rol, &c. Huzza!—a gun!—the signal's made ; All hands on board—the anchor's weigh'd ; Lord! how the girls in scores are flyingFore and aft, all sobbing, crying; Thoughts of parting makes them all run roaring mad; But honour bids her gallant sons to glory go, So off again we scud to lick the saucy foe ; For if ever fellow took delight in Swigging, kissing, dancing, fighting, Dam'me! I make bold to say that Jack's the lad. With my tol de rol, &c. � Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Four Excellent Songs. The Laird of Cockpen. The Lass of Arranteenie. Mirren Gibb's Public House. Jack's the Lad. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Laird of Cockpen The Lass of Arranteenie. Mirren Gibb's Public House Jack's the Lad Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923316913505154">s0424b13</a> Description An account of the resource 62 printed at the foot of title page Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): bonnet (women) Gender: woman/women Nature: ocean/sea Nature: river/lake Object: basket(s) Outdoor Scene Tools: net(s) Transportation: ship/boat(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b1685e9ba97b673ff35429fb2e042744.jpg 4fde162cab5051d0a7a216d371e5aef6 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Illustration on title-page of a young woman in profile sitting with hands crossed on lap, gazing downwards. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f063fbc13f66ac992cbb9911f766af94.pdf e9556fdd350c0082e8b26c1aea66fc6e PDF Text Text GLASGOW PEGGY; TO WHICH IS ADDED THE FAVOURITE BALLAD OF THE DROWNED LOVERS. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. 74. �GLASGOW PEGGY A B O N N I E laddie brisk and gay, A handsome youth sae brisk and gaddie; And he is on to Glasgow town, To steal awa' his bonnie Peggy. When he came into Glasgow town* Upon her father's green sae steady ; " C o m e forth, come forth, old man," he says, 44 For I am come for bonnie Peggy." Out it spake her father then, " Begone from me, ye Highland laddie ; There's nane in a' the west country Dare steal from me my bonnie Peggy." I've ten young men all at my back, That ance to me were baith true and steady; If ance I call, they'll soon be nigh, And bring to me my bonnie P e g g y . " w Out it spake her mother then, Dear but she spake wond'rous saucy; Says, " Ye may steal my cow or ewe, But I'll keep sight o' my am lassie." �3 " Hold your tongue, old woman," lie says, " Ye think your wit it is fu ready ; For cow nor ewe I ever stole, But I will steal your bonnie Peggy." f Then all liis men they boldly came, That was to him baith true and steady; And through the ha' they quickly went, And forth they carried bonnie Peggy. Her father gae mony shout and cry. Her mother cursed, the Highland laddie But he heard tliem as he heard them not, But-fix'd his eye on bonnie Peggy. He set her on his milk-white steed, And he liimsel' on his grey naigie, Still along the way they rode, And he's awa' wi' bonnie Peggy. ** Says, " I would gi'e baith cow and ewe, And sae would I this tartan plaidie, That I was far into the north, And alang wi' me my bonnie Peggy." As they rode down yon pleasant glen, For trees and brambles were right mony There they met the Earl o' Hume, And his young son, were riding bonnie. Then out it spake the young Earl Hume, Dear but he spake wond'rous gaudie ; " Ijai wae to see sae fair a dame Riding alang wi' a Highland laddie." �4 " Hold your tongue, ye young Earl Hume, 0 dear but you do speak right gaudie ; There's nae a lord in a* the south, Dare e'er compete wi' a Highland laddie/' Then he rade five miles through the north, Through mony hills sae rough and scroggie, Till they came down to a low glen, And he lay down wi' bonnie Peggy. Then he enclosed her in his arms, And row'd her in his tartan plaidie ; " There are blankets ^and sheets in my father's house, How have I lien down wi' a Highland laddie! " Says he, " There are sheep in my father's fauld, And every year their wool is ready ; By the same our debts we pay, Although I be but a Highland laddie. " There are fifty cows in my father's byre, That all are tyed to the stakes, and ready; Five thousand pounds I ha'e ilk year, Although I be but a Highland laddie. " My father has fifty well shod horse, Besides your steed and my grey naigie ; I'm Donald o' the Isle o' Sky, W h y may not you be ca'd a lady ? * See ye not yon fine castle, On yonder hill that stands sae gaudie ; And there we'll win this very night, Where ye'll enjoy your Highland laddie." 4 �THE DROWNED LOVERS stands in his stable door, And clapping at his steed ; And looking o'er his white fingers His nose began to bleed. WILLIE Gi'e-corn to my horse, mother, And meat to my young man ; And I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, I'll win ere she lie down." 44 O bide this night wi* me, Willie, 0 bide this night wi' me ; The best an' cock o' a' the reesfc At your supper shall be." 44 *4 A' your cocks, and a* your reests, 1 value not a prin ; For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, I'll win ere she lie down." " Stay this night wi' me, Willie, 0 stay this night wi' m e ; The best an' sheep in a' the flock At your supper shall b e . " A ' your sheep, and a' your flocks, 1 value not a prin ; For I'll awa' to Meggie's bower, I'll win ere she lie down." 44 " 0 an' ye gang to Sae sair against The deepest pot in My malison ye's Meggie's bower, my will; Clyde's water. feel. �6 " The gude steed that I ride upon, Cost me thrice thretty pound ; And I'll put trust in his swift feet, T o ha'e me safe to land." \r As he rade ower yon high, high hill, And down yon dowie den, The noise that was in Clyde's water Would fear'd live huner men. " O roaring Clyde, ye roar ower loud, Your streams seem wond'rous Strang, Make me your wreck as I come back, But spare me as I gang." Then he is on to Meggie's bower, And tirled at the pin ; 44 O sleep ye, wake ye, Meggie," he said, 44 Ye'll open, lat me come i n . " " O wha is this at my bower door, That calls me by my name ? " 44 It is your first love, sweet Willie, -This night newly come hame." I ha'e few lovers thereout, thereout, A s few ha'e I therein ; The best an' love that ever I had, Was here ju-st late yestreen." 44 The warstan stable in a' your stables, For my puir steed to stand ; The warstan bower in a' your bowers, For me to lie therein: My boots are fu' o' Clyde's water, I'm shivering at the chin." 44 �7 " My barns are fu' o' corn, Willie, My stables are fu' o' h a y ; My bowers are fu' o' gentlemen, They'll nae remove till day." " O fare-ye-well, my fause Meggie, 0 farewell, and adieu ; * I've gotten my mither's malison, This night coming to you." As he rode ower yon high, high hill, And down yon dowie den ; The rushing that was in Clyde's water, Took Willie's cane frae him. He lean'd him ower his saddle bow, To patch his cane again ; The rushing that was in Clyde's water, Took Willio's hat frae him. He lean'd himto'er his saddle bow, To catch his hat through force.; The rushing; that was in Clyde's water. Took Willie frae his horse. His britlier stood upo' the bank, Says, " Fye, man, will ye drown? Ye'11 turn ve to your high horse head, And learn how to sowni." " How can I turn to my horse head, And learn how to sovvm ? I've gotten my mither's malison, It's here that I maun drown!" The very hour this young m?n sank Into the pot sae deep, �8 Up waken'd his love, Meggie, Out o' her drowsy sleep. " C o m e here, come here,,my mither dear, And read this dreary dream ; I dream'd my love was at our yates, And nane wad let him in." Lye still, I s t i l l now, my Meggie, Lye still and tak' your rest; Sin your true love was at our yates, It's but twa quarters past." 44 Nimbly, nimbly, raise she up, And nimbly pat she on ; And the higher that the lady cried, The louder blew the win'. The first an* step that she stepp'd in, She stepped to the queet: " Ohon, alas ! " said that lady, " This water's wondrous deep." The next an' step that she wade in, She wadit to the knee ; Says she, 44 1 could wade farther in, If I my love could see." The next an' step that she wade in, She wadit to the chin ; The deepest pot in Clyde's water She got sweet Willie in. " You've had a cruel mither, Willie, And I have had anither; But we shall sleep in Clyde's water, Like sister an' like brither." � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 070: Title-page illustration of a young woman in profile sitting with her hands crossed on her lap and gazing downwards. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Glasgow Peggy; to which is added the favourite ballad of the drowned lovers. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. the favourite ballad of the drowned lovers. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923323403505154">s0411b21</a> Description An account of the resource 74 printed at foot of title page Woodcut #70: Illustration on title-page of a young woman in profile sitting with hands crossed on lap, gazing downwards. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Gender: woman/women https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/c80b19e865bb25ed64f26f664c5337d8.jpg aeb3081bc54252d901962b852b36f04a Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Illustration on title-page of a tall ship at sea. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5d8c78482499df09e8063f1995cd5d33.pdf 75338055f62b625882f2b5db9ddb43c1 PDF Text Text George and Britain Save; o wh c \ d ed. The Plowman's Dittv, Lay thy loof in Mine, Lassie, By Logan Streams. STIRLING: P R I C E D BY W MACNIS« 1S&5. �I G E ^ R G E A N D BR T U N S A V E . W h i h reeds of Uei! deface the world, and Gallia% thfon; in iuin lies. Whil r und be wo id n v o t t is burlNl, and Dhco*d># banefuii boni er fi e f . Loud s all th loyal Briton sii>g T o a r ^ s ! to arms ! your biiCAlers biiag f T o s i 4d . ur C o u n t r y gua d our Kiag, And George and Britain save* Nc^er t>hall th* d*sol#ti: g wOp, Th 1 sh* es iviti ho. ror Europe o'ar, T o u« U hideous iim c s ew\ Of 1 ep in bio m this happy ihore* Firm a* out lock-bouod i J e we'll &tMid, Wi;h *va'chfuJ eye an^i iion batii, T 6 wit:l«i the n r ^ h t ot Biiiain'ft land, A n d G orge anci Britain save- / T h i e wUe t r e a t i n g f r u *y buma* A n i p i o s t w e netim> iiiourn in rflgflf, Hi^rrly e \ c th* Baton turns To Edward*® an4 ra H m a i ' i / / V �5 A« o'er tft ir c o r q u e r i n g U r n h* suh&, T o u e h ' d b y t e ; r fitness p r o u d fi e h i cries> M T h u s o ' e r o u r foes «*ell evfcr ri e , gt A n d G e o r e a n d B i i a t a •ive.'* 0 f t F«RCy viawg t h e m on t h e d e a p , A n d t u r n i n g u t h .ir ia-ron» roll, W h e r e g r e a t EHz t * a hes s l e - p , W i t h t r i u m »h fills e a c S 'ritoraS soul* A s D r a k e an J Raleigh e t c h (he g l a n c e t 11 Advance h e c i t*, r a s i f ioU a i v a n e e I T h e g r v* of ^pai» sh II 4< p a for P r a n c e t And G e o r g e a id B r i t o n $ a v e V "What prompts these restless foes of life T o dare our dreaded arms again ? W h a t , but the hope that party strife H a s broke Britannia s shield in twain ? B u t know thev not, when F r a n c e is near, T b e war of tongues' is silent here, T h a t all my grasp B r i t a n n i a ' s spear, A n d G t o r g e and Britain save, N e ' e r in the pinch of Britain's F a t e , Shall Statesmen's rival Feuds be known, O r Faction strive, with thwarting hate, T » break the British B u l w a r k d«wn ; �4 N o ! round the Alter of our Land, Llnk v d in one soul, the British Bar<!# $iiall firm in sacred Union stand, And George and Britain Save. Though Moral Order sink to the ground. Though all thi' Virt ues trodden lie Though Fury tear the nations round, And Blood «nd Rapine fill each eye J N e ' e r khall rhe Storm here turn his flight; While Britinh hearts at home*unite To gaide our thought, to guard our rigbfc, And George and Britain save. O happy I*le 1 wise ordered State \ Well tempered work of Freedom's N o shock of realms can touch thy Fato If Union binds thy §^a-girt Land : Vniiily the «torm shall round thee ring. While Britain's Sons in concord sing, 4i We'll shield our country guard our i{ And George and Britain save/* THE PLOWMAN S DITTY. B'-c.^We I'm but poor, And slendor my store, �5 Bhat I've nothing to lose is the cry p L e t who will declare it, I vow I can't bea» it, I give all such prater® the lie. Tho* my house is but small, Y e t to have none at all, W#«ld sure be a greater distress, Sir, Shall my garden, so sweet, And my orchard, so neat, Be the prize of a foreign oppressor ? On Saturday's night, Tis still my delight, W i t h my wages to run home the faster, But if Frenchmen rule here, T may look far and near, But I never shall find a Pay-master. 4 I>ve a dear little wife, W h o m I love as my life, T * lose her f should not much like, And it would make me run wild. T o see my sweet child, W i t h it's head on the point of a pike. I've my Church too to save, And will go to my grave �§ lit defence of a Church that's the best} my King, too, God bless hiro, L e t no one oppress him F t r Bene has be ever opprest, British Laws for my guard, M y cottage is barr'd j x Tis safe in the light or the dark, If the 'Squire shou'd oppress, 1 get instant redress, M y Orchard's as safe as his P a r k . M y Cot is my Throne, W h a t 1 hare is m< own, A»4 what is my own 1 will keep, Should Boni come now, ' T i s true 1 may plow, B u t I'm sure that I never shall reap* N o w do but reflect W h a t 1 have to protect \ T h e a doubt if to fight 1 shall choose, King, Church* Babes and Wife, Laws, Liberty, Life, N e w tell me 1 have nothing to lose. Then I'll beat my ploughshare To a sword or a sptar, �And rush on those desperate m e n : L i k e a lion I'll fight> That my spear, now so bright, M a y soon turn to a ploughshare again I L A Y T H Y L O O F IN M I N E L A S S . • L a y thy loof in mine In mine lass, in mine las?, And sweat on thy white hand. Lass, T h a t thou wilt be m ain. A slave to love s unbounded swav» H e aft has wrought me m d k l e wae i u t now he is mv deadly fae Unless thou be mine ain. O l*v thv loof in mine Las«. )n mine Lass in mine Lass, &<?« monk? a Las;? has broke my m t , That for a blink 1 ha o lo < d best j l i t thou art Queen mthitt my breast, Fqv evtr to remain* 0 lay tby loof U\ m m Lans, In mine Laua in m m I<aw« A&d Bweav on thy white Imml, h m , T h a t thou wilt be tny aia* Tfcsce's �8 -Dear L a d gin we'll be lee.l and true, T h e r e ' s nane 1 like sae weel as \ou f there's mv loof I swear and vow f F o r life to be vonr ain. H o w there's m loof in thine Lad» fo thine L * d , Jn thine L a d h hopes you will prove kin* L a d * And tak me for vour ain. BY LOGAN S REAMS. B y L o g a n streams that rins sae deep^ H o w a f t wi' jalre l y e herded >h» ep f H e r d e d sheep and gather'd slaes. W i ' my dear lad on Logan brae*. B u t lacVa-r.ee ! these da are gane, And 1 wi' grief mav benl my lane While mv dear lad mauu fare bis faea, F a r , far frae me and Lo^an braes, N a e mair at Lotrnn k u n will b© Atsveen the preaching* meet wi* me j M e e t wi' me and when i t s m u k , Convev me hame frae Logan Mrk. W e e ! may I sing the days are gane, F r a e kirk or fair I come mv lans j While mv dpar lad maun face his f g ^ F a r f a r lYas me an«! Logan braes* FiNIS. �• - : f. •SiMfJ *»st •SIHDVW M AH a i i ^ I H s l * O N 11H1JLS &S V- J ' u ^ S o r j pu« -no j«f *ftd«j <m{ aaej uimu p«| JttJp <101 I Mtl fHUO'J j «t»MJ| JO ^jipl 9Jtt atji iltiia { A«UJ •5f.lt U»J30'| ASAUO^ VltU tfjt UMjAl pU« aiU ,JAl ? oui ^IM j ^ u i s^uh)dttai(( uaaiuv «i| j|IA* llt<30>f ^ IttUU •fMttiq U^^oq \}\XV 9'U »GJJ JKJ ••3TJJ SU| 9J«| till Bill |)R| Al" °\V\M. XlU j)ljq ABU1 t\A\ | p u y ^UBff 4-IH Bp Jwaqi j 40$ •y^ujf} uK^oq; tso pef JBJp Aui s p .taijiKtf pun dj-H[$ p^p-i^ftj ' d a u j s p a p j j q ^A j tm •da.jp aBs suti jBqi sJiBaajy UBtfcrj a f [ •SRV3LH c £i«rarj tti jooj iCqiXtrj S JSLVOOJ A 3 *UlB JllOA .10} JHU TJBJ pay* pr II!41 l , 0 A s 3 doq lif pv.rj aujq* of auiqj JUJlji ui jooj ui e,ajaqi •ute JUOA aq o\ ajij joj[ • P I <Ar>iQ s u«ra^o[j[ oqj, pa p i 0 l|Al O , **oa pa« *no \ S B ( OA^g i i r e ^ u g put? | jooj Aui f^jaqj «»*£ «B JS | a B S9i4tlX UU 9M\ pus p ^ l oq l|f9M p*'J -IBO^J 8 N o ! round the Altc;r of our L a n d , B h a t I ' v e nothing to lose is the cry \ Link v d in one soul, the British B a r 3 , L e t who will declare it, $iiall firm in sacred Union stand, I vow I can't bea» it, And George and Britain Save. Though Moral O r d e r sink to the ground, Though nil th^ V i r t u e s trodden lie Though F u r y tear the nations round, And Blond Bud Rapine fill each eye 5 f N e e r Jiall rlie Storm here turn his (light; W h i l e Britinh hearts at home* unite T o gaide our thought, to guard our r i g h t , And George and Britain save. O happy Isle ' wise order'd State \ W e l l tempered work of Freedom's h&nd^ I give all such prater* the lie. T h o ' my house is but small, Y e t to have none at all, Wetild sure be a greater distress, Sir, Shall my garden, so sweet, And my orchard, so neat, • e the prize of a foreign oppressor ? On Saturday's night, ' T i s still my delight, W i t h my wages to run home the faster, B u t if Frenchmen rule here, N o shocjl of realms can touch thy F a t e T may look far and near, I f Union binds thy S-a-gii t L a n d : But I never shall find a P a y - m a s t e r . Vainly the «torm shall round thee ring. While Britain's Sons in concord sing, " W e ' l l shield our country guard our And George and Britain save/* P v e a dear little wife, W h o m I love as my life, T * lose her F should not much like, And i t would make me run wild. T o see my sweet child, THE P L O W M A N S DITTY- W i t h it's head on the point of a pike. B'-c m<- I ' m hut poor, I ' v e m y Church too to save, And slendor my store, A n d will go to m y grave �4 JBad8 « 40 p40M« « OX t 0M0p t f s p u g aqi 3f«d4q OJ, 'ajeq Bujj.iwAAtj i qiiH ^ a t j i s uo«pwj[ 1 0 'aMOUJj aq «pnag |«A14 ^uauisajvjg ||BI|g s,ui#4ijg jo ipuid 34; ui oa«q«q8no|d naqx • « o | o) Sniipoa 8A*q | aia *aA«8 fnuiuff;' put? aftio-**} p u y 'jtjads s ^ t u u t n u g dh^aS u jtJiij, •djaij }ua||s sj ^sanfluoj jo 4 m a q j , 4 4«au si a a u w j Uaq/A «jou .*aqj MoUif inff ^ uitJMj uj p|ajqs 8 tJiuuv^ug a^oaq st?n o j u j s Ai4*d adoq aqj jnq ^ uivSns bWin paptjajp 4no a4up o j , ojH jo saoj s^apsaa asaq* $jdu)04d m •asuoqo jpiqa \ oj jt }qnop * a q £ 4 pajo4d 0% 3A«q J j s q ^ j a a g a j jnq op m o ^ nlsa* jjuqe aaAau \ wns of,} > * ( •A\o|d A*va j a m i SJX, *A\ou otuoa iuojj Pl«oq§ 4 daai( \\m \ qmo Ata si 4 umo A»U 8i aA«q j < auo4i{x Ara si ^03 Ajf uoiug pttea^joaf) puy>f •aoucj^ j o j t d 11 tj® i l t d * j o •a 4* a q x # f3«uBA)B * j u t j tSE4 l^O aq aauBApy M cq* qoj>0 fUte 95|WQ s y • p o s fi,tioiur i ^ o S | i g M' w n p i q i i ^ •d*a|s s a q e v s ^ g «|[04 t u o 4 e r b > Ji* m * £r>iujnt p a y ' d e a p atji uo uiaqi smpia Aqsb^ Stq SB 9J«8 815 8/p4«qOJQ jC|f ' s s a j p a j }Q«)sui ( 4 ssa4ddo p^noqs ajinbg 4 aqi jj *3j4Bp aqi jo pq? ui ajBS sj^v c . p4i4i?q si 4 p4Btl3 XlU JOJ SiUVrj qsi>14^ c w t 9 pue a j o a Q p u y , , •a 14 >oa3 fi,a* saoj jiio 4s4o s n q x h *89ijo cq a tj pnojid s^aunj 4»a ^ Xq P/qonoj, ")sa4ddo JiaAa aq seq auiii m j uiiq ssajddo ouo ou ^a^j •oiiq ssajq po^) ^o^ Xoi oa^j - q u4fl ^uiaa^baoD 4i< q i aa4o tiE i )saq aqi s ^ q i ipanq^ « j o aauajaf iff € G E O R G E A N D BR T U N S A V E . Whil* reeds of IIei! deface the world, and Gallia's th?on; in iuin lies. Whil r nod he wo Id n volt is butM, and Di*co r d^ banefuU b°nr tr fi e f . Loud s bll t*i loyai Brit on sing T o arms ! to artos ? your hiiCAlers bitog t T o s v i ld • ur Court'y gua d our Kiog f And George and Britain savec Ht^er shall thV d^solsti: g wbP t Th t sh* es wit'i ho.rur Europe o'tf, T o u« is niveous inn e s ew, O r 1 ep in bio jo this happy dhore* Jirm a* out lock-bound ule we^U *imiB Wiih watchful eye ana iton baiil, T i witda the niftght ot Britain'* b a d , Ami G orge ana Bnt-in save* •J .; 'r • \ "TW e wlio thjeatia^ frtr,*y barnl. And piostrare i ^ e t l m tiiourn in tli^rrly 1ms e \ e lU* Baton turns To E o w A f t ^ s ana to H s a i t f ' a And rush on tho«e desperate men i L i k e a lion I'll fight \ That my spear, now so bright, May soon turn to a ploughshare again | L A Y T H Y L O G F IN M I N E LASS. 0 L a y thy loof in mine In mine lass, in mine lass* And sweat on toy white hand ; Lass, That thou wilt be ov ain. A slave to love s unbounded sway, Me aft has wrought me meikle wae But now he is mv deadly fae Unless thou be mine ain, O Itfv thv loof in mine Las< la mine Lass in mine Lass, See* monle a Lass ha* broko my m t f That for a blin* 3 ha« lo< d btst \ Bat thou art Queen within my b ^ a t f , X?or evfer to 0 lay thy loof in m m Tfcare's In mitm trm in mrm l.m** A*d sweav on thy white Imnd, h m , That thou wilt be my � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 071: Title-page illustration in single ruled border of a tall ship at sea. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource George and Britain save; to which was added, The plowman's ditty, Lay thy loof in mine, lassie, By Logan Streams Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The plowman's ditty, Lay thy loof in mine, lassie Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1825 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 10 pages 15 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923321943505154">s0410b38</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Stirling: W. Macnie Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Stirling Description An account of the resource Woodcut #71: Illustration on title-page of a tall ship at sea. # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1821-1830 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Stirling: W. Macnie Outdoor Scene Transportation: ship/boat(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/74126c72dd8e019e8929639a84342b97.jpg b4ca622ade21429384eb6e0c68f354ba Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Illustration on title- page a woman in conversation with a man in front of building. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/44fbe0b77ea97939b7cfacf7bf3ff73c.pdf 76eb4ef55ec8a0930bcb4db70ec46b9e PDF Text Text KATHARINE 0G1E, T o which is added, JOHN ANDEUSON, MY JO, JEAN ANDERSON,-MY JO, M A 11 I A GLASGOW: JVWistitd and Sold, Wholesale and Retail, by R , Hutchison, Bookseller, 19. Soltoarket. �fi • K A T H A R I N E OGIEL ' As walking forth to view the plaiDy Upon a. morning early, While J^lpy's sweet 6Ceiy; did efceer my braiw, From flowers which grew so rarely; 1 chanced to nwret a pretty mak], V She shined though it Mas fo#ie: 1 jtsk^d her name^ sweet Sir, she said, My oame is K<|fch'rinc Ogic. V I stood Awhile, and did admire, To a j*ymph so stately; brisk iw air tjicre did appear 1,0 a country it aid so neatly:— gijcfr i>atVa! sweetness ihe displayed, Like lilies in a bogie; Ifeifta's self ww ne'er arrayed Like this same Kath'i ine Ogie. [Pfl^*. ... 4 w #Hiou flaw'r of females, beauty's quem> ' j : •. W h o secsAbeP.fcurp tppst prize theo; Though thou art drest i« robes but me&v, Yet these cannot disguise thee: T h y "handsome graceful l#ok, Excels each clownish togie; Tbou'rt match for4, tSlrd^or lord, or duke, My charming JCath'rijpe Ogie. >r ; �O ! wcte I bnt some shepherd strain, To feed my flock beside thee: At bughting-time to leave the plain, In flwlking to abide thlft; I'd think myself a happier man, With Kate, my clufb, and dogie, Than he that hugs his thousands ten, Ha<l I but Kath'rine Ogie. Then I'd despise th' imperial throno, And statesmen's dgng'rous stations, I'd be no king, I ' d wear ik> crown, I'd smile at co*Kjto*ring nations, M^rht I caress, and still possess This lass of whom I'm vogie; For they arc toys, and still look lesd, Compared with Kath'rine Ogie. h fear the gods have not decreed £or me so fine a creature, Whose beauty rare makes her exceed All other works in nature* Clouds of de-pair surround my love, That are both dark and foggie; Pitv my case, ye powers above! Else I die for Kath'rine Ogie. J O H N ANDERSON, MY JO. John Anderson, my jo, John, When we were first acquent, �4 Your locks were like the ravert, Your bonnif brow was brent; But now your head's turned bald, John, Your locks are like the anow, Yet, blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, tny jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, When uature first began To try her cannie hand, John, Her master-work was man: And you amang them a' John, Sae trig frae tap to toe, She proved to be nae journey-work, John Anderson, my jo. John A-nderson, my jo, John, Ye were my first conceit, And ye need na think it strange, John, Though I ca' ye trim and neat; Though some folks say ye're ait* J, John, 1 never think you so, But I think ye're aye the same to rive, JoIih Anderson, my jo. J.>hn Anderson, my jo, John, We've seen *ur bairns' bairns, And yet, my dear John Anderson, - I'm hnppy in your arms; And sue are ye in mine John, X'ni suie ye'il ne'er say no, �S Ffcougfi the days are gane that we ha*e J dim Anderson, my jo, Jplta Andersou, my jo, John, What pleasure does it gie, To see sae many sprouts John, spring up 'tween you and me; And ilka lad and lass, John, In our footsteps to go, Makes perfect heaven here on earttr, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, Frae year to year we've past, And soon that year maun come, J;ohn, Will bring us to our last; But let na that affright us, Johti, Our hearts were ne'er our foe, While in innocent delight we lived, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, We clamb the hill thc^ithcr, And money a can tie dkyi John, V 1 We've had wltli ail6 aiiithef; Now we maun totter df>wn, JohtJ, But hand in hand \4'l\ And we'll sleep the^nHher'ut the fwofj Jtdjp Andersoj^ my jo. j a w p i i i iat3 c r w < w > ' �6 1 J&AN A N D E R S O N , M Y JO. W U t f Nature first b ^ n n , Jean, Ta try her Dannie hand, It*s true she first made manx Jwti, And ga'e him great commanA; But iiaethin^ wad consent him, Jcart, Though king of a* below, Till Heaven in pity sent him, Jefctt, 1ft"hat niaisi he wished—a jo! 'Bhough some may say Tm auld, Je'an, And say the same of thee, ISVer fret to hear it tauld, Jean, You still look young to. me: Ami weel t mind the day, Jean, Yonr breast was white as snotv, And waist sae jimp ane might it spa ft, Jerfft Anderson, my jo! ' Our bonnie bairns' bairns, Jean, With rapture do I see, Come todlin to the fire-side, Or ?it upon my knee; I f there k pleasure hcje, Jean, Or happiness helow, Tbi* surely maup be likest it, Jean Anderson, my jo. Though age has sillafred oWre my pow Siupe we were first acquent, �7 And changed njy flossy raveti loek>, It's left us still content; Aad eild ne'er conies &anp, JeaTL But aft brings mony a wo, Yet wu'vpnae e^usefor sic.jcoinpl^n^ Jean Anderson, my jo. In innocence we've spent our And pleasant looks the past; Nae anxious thoughts alarm u^ Wc'er chqarful t;o the last: Till Death knock at pur door, Jean, Aud wnrn us With to go, Contented we will and love, Jean Anderson, my jo, ltf* now a Ipng time, Jc&nf Since you arid I begun To ftptachel up life's hill, Jean, Our race is nearly run; W e baith hae done our best, Jean, Our sun is wearing low: Sae let ns quietly sink to rest, Jean Anderson, my jo. 'Twas near a thicket's caloi retrcr**, Under a poplar tree, Maria chose her lonely seat, To mourn her sorrows frrq. �8 Wef ioyplj form wa^ tweet to view, As dawn at opening d^y; ' liui, ah ! she mourn'd her love aot tme, Am! wept her cares away. T he iirook flmvM gently at her fef!, ID murmurs smooth aloiiir; " Her pipe, which once she tun'd so ill c . Had now forgot its song. N® more tP chai m, the va)e «he trie*, For gnet%jis fill'd her breast; Fled are the joys us'd to prize, Arid fled with them licr rest. Poor hepless maid ! who can bebo&l Thy anguish so severe,1 (>r hear thy lovq-lorn story told. Without a pilying leor ! Maria, hapless maid, adieu ! Thy Sorrows soon must cease; £0011 heaven will take a maid so tru* To everlasting pcaee. tflNIS. it** Tjfano! nod ^ffeiic. i3ft ciuoia t>i � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 072: Title-page illustration in a single ruled rectangular border of a woman in conversation with a man standing in front of building. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Katherine Ogie, to which is added, John Anderson, my jo, Jean Anderson, my jo, Maria. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. John Anderson, my jo, Jean Anderson, my jo, Maria. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1829 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923346353505154">s0361b07</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: R. Hutchinson, Bookseller Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Description An account of the resource Woodcut #72: Illustration on title- page a woman in conversation with a man in front of building. Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage # of Woodcuts: 1 Architecture: window(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1821-1830 Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: R. Hutchinson Gender: man/men Gender: woman/women Nature: tree(s) Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2ccb2f7652240339be1b1321f1310e0d.jpg a6c80938db1c5be03cf63483c37a8b4a Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Illustration on title-page (enclosed in border with a triangle and dot pattern) of a king sitting dressed in full regalia in an outdoor scene. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/63c7b88be98fb8543b7969485e872334.pdf b1954dfb44b05df3f800ce5b881ba1de PDF Text Text T H E K I N G S MUSTER, T o which is added, H A E L U C K A B O * T T H E HOUSE, U AND U P IN T H E M O R N I N G AND EARLY, F' J BAULDY BAIRD, GLASQOW: FuNititd and Sold, Wholewit, and Retail, kjr A . Hutchison, Booktdler, 19. SaUwmrhHi) 1823,. �T H E KING'S MUSTEK. TONE—The Auld Wife ayont the lire. tv Little wat ye wha's coming, Little wat he wha's coming, Little war yc wha's coming, Now the King himsel's coining* There'* coaches coming, steam-hoats hii&r&mg, Targets comii.g, turtles scumming, Bow Street, and Lochaber's coming W i ' pipes to make a braw bumming, t •v ' Little ken ye wha's coming. Clans and clowns and a's coating. Gcrrtk and his cook's coming, Glengarry and Jus tail's coming, Dake and Dungwaessell'a coming, And walth o' gaucie bailies coming. Little wat ye wha's coming, Npw the King himsel's comicg. Tartan s coining, muslin's coming, Gregarich's coming, Greenock's corting. Here's the holly badge o' Drummond, Ami there's a Celt, that's but a rum one* �Little ken ye wha's coming, Cat and Capperfae's coming. Breadalbane's breekless kernes are coming, Paisley's weaving barns are coming, Dirks are coming, trcddles coming, Provwt Jarvie's coacli is coming. Little wat ye wha's coming, Now the King himspPs coming. There's plaides enow, and mauds coming, Bonnie border lads coming, H o * you stare, ye jade, woman, T t »ec the braw cockades coming. Little wat ye wha's coming, Young Buccleuch and a's coming. The great Macallummore's coming, The thane and the Strathmore's coming, A body canna snore, woman, A ' their piprochs squeeling, bumming. l/ptle wat ye wha's coming, Warld and wife, aridVs coming. Auld Reekie's turnM a daft woman, There's carxe in every carft, worn in? And, troth, it's a' but weel-becoming, N*w tha King himsel's coming. �Little ken ye wha'i coming, King and kilt, and a's coming. I NAfc L U C K A B O U T T H E HOU«£. And are ye »ure the news are true) And are ye sure he's weel! Is this a time to ta'k o' wark, Mak' hast set by your wheel. Is this a time to ta'k o* wark, When Collin's at the door, Gi'e nic my cloak, I'll to the Quey And see him come ashore. For there's nae luck about the bouse, There's nae luck ava; There's little pleasure in the houst, When our gudeman's awa. Rise up and mak' a clean fireside, Put on the muckle Pat, Gi'e little Kate her cotton gown, And Jock his Sunday's coat; And mak' their shoon as black at site*, Their hose as white as snaw, It's a' to please my ain gudeman, For he's been lang awa. ijfaaJl j Fbr there's nae luck, &c. There's twn fat hens upon the bauk, 'S been fed thi» month and amir, �( ^ 6 M«k' hast and thraw their necks about* That CoHin weel may fare; Amd spread the table neat and clean, Gar ilka thing louk braw, It's a' for love o' my gudeman, For he's been lang aw a. For there's nae luck, 8cc. O me down my biggonets, My Bishop satin gown, Fdr I maun tell the Bailie's wifr, That Collin'* come to town. M y Sunday's shoon they maun gxe on. My hose o' pearl blue, It's a9 to please my ain gudeman. For ee's baith leal and true. For there's nae luck, &c« t i f true's his words, sae smooth's his s p w h , His breath like caller aijy His very foot has music in't When he comes up the stair. Aftd will I see his face again, And will I hear hup speak, Vm downright dizzy wi' the thought* In troth I'm like to greet. , For there's nae luck, &c. ¥ P IN T H E M O R N I N G EARLY. CiUU) btaws the win' frae north to south, Ab4 drift is driving saiily; �6 "fkt »keep are eonring i' the heagh, Osirs! it's winter fairly. N<»w np in the morning's no for me, Up in the morning early; Ti rather gang supperlcss t« my bod, Tbun rise in the morning early. I^wle rain the blast amang the wood*, Tho branches tirlin barely; Awning the chimlcy taps it thuds, And frost is nippen sairly. Naw up in the morning's no for me, Up in the morning early; T o sit a' night I'd rather agree, Than rise in the morning early. Tbe sun peeps o'er yon sou-thlan' hill, Like onie timorous carlie; Just blinks a wee, then sinks again, And that we find severely;1 Kit / up in the m o r n i n g s n o f »r m e , Up in the morning early; Wben snaw blaws into the chimley check, WbaM rise in the morning early. hne linties lilt on hedge or bu«hf Poor things they suffer sairly; Ib can Id r i fe quarters a' the night, A' day they fe6d but sparely. K m tip iw the morning's for me, Up it) the morning early; T �7 What fate can be waur, in winter ttar*, Than rise in the morning early. A coney house, and a cantie wife, Keeps aye a body cheery: And pantry stow'd wi' meal and ro»»t, Pklt answers unco rarely. Bnt up in the morning na, na na, Up in the morning early; • The gowans maun glint on bank m ' kka« Ere I rise in the morning earl?. BAULDY BAiSD. Baddy Baird's come again, Bauldy Baird's cwme again; Tell the news through burgh and (tai, Bauldy Baird's come again! O Bauldy Baird can buy and stM Barrels o' herring, lades o' meal; Cheat till the good man be poor, And putch till the good wife look to»r; Laugh and clatter, curse and ban, Tell a lie wi' onie man. Tell the news to a' ye ken> That Bauldy : Baird's come again. . . .i i } * i* i Bauldy Baird can drink, I trow, Till a' the bodies roun' be iu'; Ilka ane that shares his bicker, _,itjM, ; >rT Kens bow Bauldy pays bis liquor. �0 When ye>re fit', he's on the cateh, Me'H buy yovr blankets, corn, or watoh. Ye sh rpers a9, though London reared, A > c a' but cuiff§ to Bauldy Baird. Bmildy Bnird can brag o' gambllag, Kens ihe airts o' dark dissembling. Bauldy Baird can make a ten, T o cut the Jack at Catch-the-Ten. Farmer bodies! watch your pea**, Hide your butter, eggs, and chcsse; For whether ripe, or in the brair^ It's a' ane to Bauldy baird. 9 i close that slap there, lock thai jate, Else some stooks will tak' the gate; For Bauldy's poney likes your gnmy Jest as weel as 'twere his ain: Spooks o' rorn, and shaves o' peaee; Whiles your hens, and whiles ye«f geese; For, faith, he's no so easy seated, It's a* aue to Bauldy Baird. ©a Bauldy Beird the law was fib, T o draw him on a cart to jttilf Bat Bauldy Baird, the pauky deevil, fliipt the loop, and >efi the beagle; O'er the dike and through the fie'ht Baaldy ran wi' mettle heels. Watch the corn stack, Robin Law, For Bauldy Baird's run awa', O riu, and let the bailie ken, Tfefi ttoaldj Baird's ccrae again. I FINIS. �*tpiios !A[.uvb Sauup si y u p p v y quou objj #uj* aqi SMrjq c n n r ^ A T 4 V 3 ' O N I N H O W 3 H 1 NI an -yrg 45pn[ 3Bti JOJ 01 cri^l qioii uj •jqSnoqi »qi jtv Xzzip lqtfuuMop iwj M *3J«ods l!!H| J |T puy |m a.a or>R| siq 33s j ||i.w p » y MIBIS oip dn S UO OJ DID t j4tti oisnrj ssq }ooj jCjOk t i f j y w j fji»C * *j, r & q j B d j q s i f j S [ P4;Tpooais 3bs •ipaojn siq s4oiu> M 4 ipn[ octi s^jatp JOJ •anjj puB |«r>| qiiuq s433 JO£ 4u«iD9pn3 U B iftu osBrjd o* I tyf *an|q jjBad ,o 3*oq •no arS rinsm uooqs *,/C«pung •UMOl oi 3U1O0 VM||03 ••gtM s^qing oq» ||ai uiiuui J *umoti upas doquig i w •sfatioSStq iiu UAop oui ^IJ 0 *D7g 3SU 94OJ9lp JOJ •bmb Sinq iiD3q s4oq ioj; 4UBUi3pn3 jCuj #o saoj joj tv 4 MHJq ^00| ftuiqj «)J|I JILT) 'upap puB 1B3U 3|q*J aqi pB3ids p « y iojrj |33M UJ O l ^ q i IJ Q •jnoq* S3[dou awqj Aituq* pu« poo qiuoin *jjni;q oqi uodu W* poj u>*q g, jbj •cn^^Vptif 3BU s4(U3qi JQJ guB| uwq s^q JOJ 4uBiu3pn3 uib i u aseajd 01 4b s4ij Cu 4mb(is sr euiq* rb osoq iioqj, ^ t j s In? 5pt?|q stf uooqs 4>iwin puy ijBOD st£Bpuiu; siq 3jD0f puy rUMo8 UOWD j j q 3|nt[ 3,19 oq) uo ^nj •dpisojg UBap B pUB drt t ' /M ] " • m s#uBuiapn9 ano b b •wnoq aqj ui oansBajd 9pii; s^j^qj^ f B B 3|Dn| O U B^jaqJL A B ( dinoq oqi ;noqu 5jon[ obu s ^ a a q w o j •3joqsB oaio3 uiiq oas p u y l o n ^ oqi oj u j 43|bo|d .{ui oiu ajrj 4 joop aqi IB ^anio^ uaq^\\ 4 3|JBM 40 3((B) O) 9UII) B Slip 8j •paqM jnojf iCq >as ispq 4 l|JBAi 40 5f4BJ 01 atnp B siq 1 | |39M s(aq djiis diC 3jb puy jarui SM3U dtp sans di( 3J8 p a y *a«ilOH 3 H X IflOHV puv I'SUIUIOD CT|!5( 35VK pUB U 1 Op^JT 3J •SujlUOO • When yc'rc fu*, he's on the cateh, Me'll buy yovt blankets, corn, or watch. Te sh rpers a\ though London reared, A « a' but cuiffs to Bauldy Baird. Rjiuldy Bnird can brag o* gambling, Kens the airts o' dark dissemblag. Bauldy Baird can make a ten, T o cut the Jack at Catch-the-Tew. Farmer bodies! watch your pea«t, Hide your butter, eggs, and chcss*; For whether ripe, or in the brairdi It's a' ane to Bauldy baird. T H E KING S MUSTER, T o which is added, NAE LUCK A B O U T T H E HOUSE, AND VP IN T H E M O R N I N G EARLY, AND BAULDY BAIRD, O I clo&e that slap there, lock thai yate, Else some stooks will tak' the gate; For Bauldy's poney likes your gnm, J«st as weel as 'twere his ain: ^ooks o' rom, and shaves o* peait; Whiles your hens, and whiles yo»r gt»s«; p^r, faith, he's no so easy scaled, It's a' aue to Bauldy Baird. Bauldy Baird the law was T o draw him on a cart to jnilt Rat Bauldy Baird, the pauky deevil, fjipt the loop, and left the beagU; C^cr the dike and through tht Ba«ldy rau wi' mettle heels. Watch the corn 6tack, Robin Law, For Bauldy Baird's run awa', O rin, and let the bailie ken, ?felt Baaldj Baird's ccrae again !. F I N 1 Ik GLASGOW: PMkktA mid Sold, Wholesale ami Retail, by ft. Hutchison, Booktc^le*, 19. SaUrmrhtt. 1823. �, -^uuuoo S4i08miq Suifl aqi 'jSuiuiODdq-pa* inq ,B 'qioji 'pay » : ui.uiOM 'yaca ajoa3 ui gijbd t43iaqj4 T 'uttuioM yup « p,uim s^i^aa^ pjny •SuimOD s^pus puc PliB^W 'tfuimoD s,BqA% 3iC }bm o y j r j ^ •Sajaiiunq 'Suqoanbs tqooadid Jioq* ( y 'ubuiom \>jous buubs /Cpoq y -#UUW)3 S^JQUiyilU^ Pu8 autnP * 'j9ujiuo9 S(ajOillUlEI||BOBpl JBOlSfrtfJ, r , . ^ puB qonapong Suno^ s^qM oX apjrj •Sujuiod api^I . »r. , /^miuiod si qoaoD i^lA^cf 'SUIUIOD saippoji 42uiinoD OJBS^JIQ ... • ( 'Suitnoo aju sujaq SuiABaM s^ajstKj •SuiuioD ajc sbuja^ ssapjaajq ^autrtjiBptfwa - •gujuioo s^BjaadduQ puB ^uiuiod oi uo^i a p i n *i|jva Suituoui aqi u( p^q^ Aojiujqa aqi mui SMOjq mcus uatfj^ 'iCjivo Sunuoui Dip ui d[\ 'dui joj on s^juiujpui aip ui dn a t ) ( f puy dM iwq) pay j, iujb2« sjjuis uaqi 4p»m b sjjujjq wtf snoiotdu aiuo ajjrj 'HjqtftiB|q>nosuoi jlb(o sdoad uoj *X|jBd Suiaioui aip ui asu uoq €03iSn joipot p j jq^ju 4b 5js 1£\avz ^ciuuotu aq) ui dQ 'am joj ou stf°uiujoui aq; ui dn •iCjaas uaddiu si isojj pity Spnq) sdu) Xojrinip aip ifujray l^pjrq u;|Jii saqoirajq o ^ fgpooM aqi duBuiB )iB|q aqi titsi stpto-g •Suuuoa sapu^oD MBJq aqj oas •ubuiom 4ap«f.a£ 'ojbis no£ a o h '3u£Woo"«pB| jap-ioq aiuuog ^gufiuoD sptiBui pus 'aouo sopiaid •Suttuoo sjdsuiiq 'Suiuiod s^qM t !jC(j«d Saiujoin aqi oi d g •aui Joj c-i s49uiu4o«i dtp da ^{ajuds inq p?aj /aip £ep , y f4q*jfi aqi 4« sjauenb ajjipjow jajgtts iCaq).s3uiq) j o o j 4q«nq jo dxfpaq uo )|i| sauui[ . . Suiujoui aqi u; asii u m ^ iui •] ssajjaddns joqjwj p j i£\jvo ^uiuioui aq> u; ^ 'aiu jcj ou ^Suiuiom oqi uj du aw^ jajUlM 94}t \*2f9 Q cpoq •qSnoq aqj 4i jjuuuo? m dwiji ^ ^ s 9 7 > What fate can be waur, in winter ttare, Than rise in the morning early. ., T H E KING'S MUSTER* T « * e — T h e Auld Wife ayont the Ere. Little wat ye wha's coming, Little wat he wha's coming, A Little wat ye wha's coming, Now the King himsel's coining. There's coaches criming, steam-hoats lamming, Targets'coming, turtles scumming, Bow Sireet, and Lochaber's coining W i ' pipes to mak£ a braw bumming, [\ ' - Littlet' ken ye wha's coming. Clans and clowns and a's coating. Curtis and his cook's coming, Glengarry and his tail's coming, Dakc and Dungwaessell's coming, And walth o' gaucie bailies coming. Little wat ye wha's coming, Npw the King hioiscl's ccmicg. Tartan s coining, muslin's coming, Gregarich's coming, Greenock's coding. Here's the bolly badge o' DrummoncH And there's a Gelt, that's but a rum one, * A cosey house, and a cantie wife, Keeps aye a body chcery: And pantry stow'd wi' meal and msat, ^ It answers unco rarely. Bnt up in the morning na, na na, Up in the morning early; » The gowans maun glint on bank aa' biae Ere I rise in the morning early. BAULDY BAISD. Banldy Baird's come again, Bauldy Baird's e»*ie again; Tell the news through burgh aod gtai, Bauldy Baird's come agaiui O Bauldy Baird can buy and stM Barrels o' herring, lades o' meal; Cheat till the good man be poor, And putch till the good wife look to»r; Laugh and clatter, curse and ban, Tell a lie wi' onie man. Tell the news to a' ye ken, That Bauldy: Baird's come again. Bauldy Baird can drink, I trow, Till a' the bodies roun' be iu'; Ilka ane that shares bis bicker, Kens how Bauldy pays bis liqiier, .' ' < � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 073: Title-page illustration in a border with a triangle and dot pattern portraying a king sitting dressed in full regalia in an outdoor scene. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The King's muster, to which is added, Nae luck about the house, and Up in the morning early, and Bauldy baird, Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Nae luck about the house Up in the morning early Bauldy baird Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1823 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 10 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923347043505154">s0357b20</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: R. Hutchinson, Bookseller Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Description An account of the resource Woodcut #73: Illustration on title-page (enclosed in border with a triangle and dot pattern) of a king sitting dressed in full regalia in an outdoor scene. # of Woodcuts: 1 Architecture: castle Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1821-1830 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: R. Hutchinson Fashion (Clothing): regalia Gender: man/men Monarch: king Outdoor Scene