61 10 639 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/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/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/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/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/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/2f248df122bdfe4ff6342e6284e5ff48.jpg d32b138bb57e71a61056fe9027f5dbb0 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 man wearing a hat and coat with walking stick in front of a small house https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/dbdb02b80236b6333765e366f005fe3b.pdf 57f53aef3c1bc734c97f8dcf097d18ae PDF Text Text J B < Five Songb. The Banks of Clyde. Crazy Jane. The Blacksmith. Ellen of the Dpe. Tell her I'll Love her �OF CLYDE. .f . .* lrM tliL^ i was young ^nd in my prime, Where fancy led we I did rove; From town to town, and country romid, Through ev'ry silent shady grove— Until I came to Scotland by name, Where beauty's seen on every *ide ; There's no town there we can'compare With Glasgow fair, on the banks of Clyde. As I went out one evening "clear, By the banks of Clyde I chanc'd to gang, vk It's there I spy'd a lovely maid, * % J> Her beauty put me to a start'Her cherry cheeks, her ruby Hps, Her hair in ringleis down did^glidej \ j Her fcaljiiy lips I long'd to kies, As siie wuik'd along the banks of Clyde, 'j :ir'd at her, aifri said, fair maid, ( V/ ow far this road do you mean to gang ; mile or twa, kind sir, she"said, rewards the town callM Linguan. you take company, fair maid, With one who's willing to be your guide*?; > * �So arm and arm, without fear or harm They walk'd along by the banks of Cly^ ' j' r i ) I am afraid you are from Ireland, And from Belfast just now come o'e That seaport town, of gre*t r e n o w n , ' Towards the north and eastern shore ; ^ That you have left some beauty bright. That was well-known to be your guide j Therefore, quoth she, it's danger to me To walk with you on the banks of Clyde. No more I said, but went with her, The water it run fair and clear, The small birds going to their nests, The moon in glances did appear, I laid my arms around her waist, Her feec from her did gently slide, And then 1 kiss'd her ruby lips, While she lay on the banfcs ot Clyde. What we said, or what we did, No man on earth shall ever knovv; But as* I ki.sh'd her ruby lips, Her colour it did come and go. It's now you've got your will, said s 1 ^ I pray make me your lawful bride. I &id I would meet her then But I forgot and cross'd t �V ;:7 / CRAZY JANE. WHY, fair maid, in ev'ry feature, Are such signs vf fear express'd? Can a wand'ring wretched creature With such terror fill thy breast ? Do my frenzied looks alarm thee ? Trust me, sweet, thy fears art vain, Not for.kingdoms would I harm thee; Shun not then poor Crazy Jane. IDost thou weep to see my anguish ? Mark me, and avoid my voe; When men flatter, sigh, and languish, Think them fake—I found them so: For I lov'd, oh! so sincerely, None could ever love again ; # But the youth I lov'4. so dearly, Stole the wits of Crazy Jane. Fondly my young heart receiv'd him, Which was doom'd to love but one: sigh'd, he vow'd, and 1 believ'd him | y le was .false, aad I undone. tii that hour has reason never her empire o'er my brain j fled, with him for ever, ' w i t s of Crazy Jane. T j �Now forlorn, and broken hearted, * And with frenzied thoughts beset,ft On that spot where last we parted— f On that spOtrwhere first we met, Still I sing my love-lorn ditty— Still I slowly pace the plain, While each passer-by* in pity, Cries;V-God helj) thee, Crazy Jane. THE BLACKSMITH. A Blacksmith you'll own is so clever, And great in the world is his place; And the reason I've guess'd* why for ever A blacksmith's deserving of grace. Great lawyers who plead and who preach, While many good causes they mar, May yield to the blacksmith to teach, t o r he labours still more at the bar. Sing fai de la, &c. When great men do wrong in the state, I h e commons try hard at their poles, While the blacksmith, as certain as Could have 'em haul'd over the And if rogues put their name to a The law ior �at But h^ksmiths arc free from all craft, <•' Hid may forge just as mutfh as they / please. Singfal de la^ o^c. k ; t — " •• vra The vices of tride he holds cheap, i And laughs at the world as it railsy For spite of the pother they keep, They can't make a smith eat his nails! And if, to his praise be it spoke, To raise him still higher and higher, You may say*, and without any joke, All he gets u got out of the fire. Sing fel.de ia* •I : • ir'r • • rri njig lulls ' Then let blacksmiths he toasted around, For well it may always be said, When a fortune by blacksmiths-is foufid* They must hit the right nail o' the head. No irony now 1'in about*, To his metal you'll find him still true; Since I've hammered his history out, I hope t1 will be temper'd by you. * Sing fal de la, &c. U.' . . .< ' / EELEN OF I'HE i)EE. E Dee's soft waters smoothly glide, rough Myrtle's fiow'rv dale* �Meek Ellen shone in youthful pride, The beauty of the vale. Her form was gentle, and her mind From every fojiy free, j To tender pity still inclin'd Sweet Ellda of the Dee. £ . 1 if While blooming Heory mark'd her charms Who long had known her fame; ' He gaz'd andiov'dvaard in,his aj-qns She own-d ag equal flatty VI Though he sprung of noble race, And she of low degree, —" Yet none to beauty added grace, Like Ellen of the Dee. But when t^e secret of his heart, His haughty parents knew; They strove'with unremitting art His purpose. tQ undo * Who, (joyless in the splendid dome, With dames of high degree,) Found pleasure in his humbler fame, .With Ellen of th* Dee. To foreign climes he then was sent, < To please parental pride ; y Reluctantly poor Henry went, Left Dllcn's charms, and died. * �8 phey gricv'd too late, his fate to hear, And curs'd the stern decree, Which pn e inspired, his he..rt to tear From Ellen of the Dee. Who still, when evening softly, flings Her shadows o'er the glade, On Dee's lone margin strays, and sings Sweet dirges to his shade, Tho' happiness be not her lot, No murmur utters she?* I* Meek resignation shares the cot, With Ellen of -he Dee. T E L L H E R I'LL LOVE HER. TELL her I'll love her while the clouds drop hi rain Or while there's water in the pathles main; Tell her Til love her till this life is o'er, And then my ghost: shall visit this sweet shore; ,/ Tell her I only ask she'll think of me— * I'll love while there's salt within the sea. ' Tell her all this, tell it,-tell it o'er and o'er, \I'll love her while there's salt within the sea. "eil hsr all this, tell it, tell it o'er and atcr — e anchor's weigh'd, or I yould tell her morel \ F J.N IS. \ \ V _ � 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 035:Title-page illustration of a man with a walking stick standing in front of a cottage. 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 Songs. The Banks of Clyde. Crazy Jane. The Blacksmith. Ellen of the Dee. Tell her I'll love her. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Banks of Clyde Crazy Jane The Blacksmith Ellen of the Dee Tell her I'll love her Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 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/alma9923315133505154">s0427b23</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. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource c. 1811-1820 based on similar woodcut illustrations in chapbooks by same publisher in NLS collections. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Kilmarnock: Printed for the Booksellers Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks--Scotland--Kilmarnock Courtship and Marriage Description An account of the resource Woodcut #35: Illustration on title-page of a man wearing a hat and coat with walking stick standing in front of a small house https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3c18bffa956a2e0966a32d402f2a7358.jpg cebf167bb302088fc93392ad2cc8a65f 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 two old men engaged in an animated conversation https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f46d5a56410b708868eab3bcd761c1e6.pdf 30d5222a145fda30c7a23fe75aaea7bb PDF Text Text > / THE TO WHICH IS ADDED, G L A S G 0 W: V PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �THE Babes In The Wood. Now ponder well ye parents dear, The words that I shall write, A woeful story you shall hear, By time brought forth to light. A gentleman of good account, In Norfolk dwelt oflate. Whose means and riches did surmount, Most men of his estate. Sore sick he was, and like to die, No help then could he have. His wife with h m as sick did lie, And both possessed one grave. No love b' twixt these two was l.nst, Each was to other kind, In love thev lived, in love they died, And l eft two babes behind. The one a flue and pretty boy, Not passing three years old ; The other a girl more young than he, And made in beauty's mou ci. \\ ( �The father left his little son, As plainly doth appear, When he should come to be of age, Three hundred pounds a year. And to his little daughter Jean, Two thousand pounds in gold, To be paid down on marriage day, Which might not be controuled. But, if his children chanced to die, Ere they to age did come, Their Uncle should receive their wealth, And thus the will did run. Now, brother, said the dying man, Look to my children dear, Be good unto my boy and girl, No friend else have I her*. T o Hod and you I do commend My children night and day ; A little while we hav e ' t s ^ure, Within this world to stay. You must be father and mother both, And Uncle all in one ; God knows what will become of them, When 1 am dead and gone. With that then spoke the mother dear, My brother kind quoth she, Thou art the man must bring my babe* T o wealth or misery. �If you do keep it carefully, Then God will you reward, If otherwise you seem to deal, God will your deeds regard. With lips as cold as any stone. She kissed her children small," God bless you both my children dear— With that the tears did fall. These ?peeches that the brother spoke To the sick couple there The keeping of your children dear 8weet sister do not fear. God never prosper me nor mine, Nor else aught that I have, If I do wrong your children dear When you're laid in the grave. Their parents being dead and gone, Their children home he takes, He brings them home into his house And much of them he makes. , He had not kept these pretty 1 abes A twelvemonth and a day, But for th^ir wealth he did devise To take their life away. He bargained with two ruffiians rude That were of furious mood, ' For them to take these children both And slay them in the wood. �Then told his wife and all he had He did thfe children send To be brought up in fair London With one'that was a friend. They prate and prattle pleasantly, As they rode on the way, To those that should their butchers be Aud take their life away. So that the pretty talk they had Made the murderers heart relent, For they who took the deed to do, Full sore they did repent. Yet one of them more hard of heart Did vow to do his charge, Because the wretch had hired him To pay him very large. The other would not agree thereto, So there they fell to stiife , With one another they did fight To take the childrens' life'. • But he that was of mildest mood Did slay the other there, W ithin an unfrequented wood The babes did quake with fear. He took the children by the hand, The tears stood in their eye, He bade them come along with him, He told them not to cry. �6 l ; or two long miles he led them thus, They loud for bread did call, Stay here says he I'll bring you bread I'll soon be from the hall* The pretty babes with hand in hand, Gaed wand'ring up and down, But never more they saw the man Approaching from the town. Their pretty lips with blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed, But when they saw the darksome night They sat them down and cried. Thus wandered these two pretty babes Till grief did end their life, In one another's arms they died Like babes wanting relief. No burial these two pretty babes O f any man receives, Till Robin Ucd-breast carefully Did cover them with leaves. But now the heavy wrath of God Upon the uncle fell, A fearful fiend did haunt his house — His conscience felt a hell. His barns were fired, his goods consumed, His lands were qarren made, His cattle died within the house, Nothing with him had staid. \ �For in a voyage to Portugal, Two of his sons did die; But to conclude, himself was brought Unto great misery. Hfc pawn'd and mortgaged all his land, Ere seven years came about' But now at length this wicked act By this means did come out. The fellow that dLi take in band These children for to kill, For a robbery he was judged to die, This was God's blessed will. He did confess this very truth, The which is here exprest, The uncle died while he for debt In prison long did rest. All you that executors be made, And overseers eke, O f children that be fatherless And infants mild and meek. Take all example by this sight And yield to each his right, Lest God with such like miseries Your wicked deeds requite. �i \ , 8 . <*• MY O W N BLUE BELL. My own blue bell, my pretty blue bell, I never will rove where roses dwell; My wings you view of your own bright hue, And oh never doubt that my heart s true blue. Though oft I own I've foolishly flown, T o peep at each bud that was newly blown, I now have done with folly and fun, For there's nothing like constancy under tire sun. M y own blue bell, &c. Some Belles are Blues, invoking the muse, And talking of vast intellectual views; Their crow quills' tip in the ink they dip. And they prate with the tongue of a learned lip. Blue belies like these, may be wise as they please, But I love my blue bell that bends in the breeze, Pride passes her by, but she charms my eye With a tint that resembles the cloudless sky. M y own blue bell, &c. FINIS. ~ � 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 034: Title-page illustration of two old men engaged in an animated conversation. 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 Babes in the wood. To which is added, My own Blue Bell. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. My own Blue Bell Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 17 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923266733505154">s0451b08</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada 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. 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 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 fairytale/folk lore Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Description An account of the resource Woodcut #34: Illustration on title-page of two old men engaged in an animated conversation. # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: fairytale/folk tale Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): upper class Gender: man/men https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6d2e047d7802ae8df0b0ff505ffb22f2.jpg 1c3689d7072a653128b19f28a5931712 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 soldier wearing a helmet with feathers and cloak with ace turned to left https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/97fec4f3de0d3eeeceac8efcdf8cd130.pdf 3c5b42fda3c0654aa983fcaf3e0c1988 PDF Text Text THE DRUNKEN EXCISEMAN TO W H I C H IS ADDED, YOUNG DONALD OF DUNDEE. WHEN I WAS YOUNG. LANGSYNE BESIDE THE WOODLAND BURN. AND ROBIN HOOD. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR TIIE m . BOOKSELLERS. �SONGS. n • >'. i THE DRUNKEN EXCISEMAN. 1 KNOW that JQWg lii^ to h^oo* a n$w song Of something that's funny and not very long. It is of an Exciseman the truth I will tell, Who thought that one night he was going to hell. Fal de lal, &c. One night he went out to look for his prey; He did meet with some smugglers, as I heard them say, In tasting the liquo?s they were going to sell, The Exciseman got drunk, the truth I will tell. He got so intoxicated he fell to the ground, And like a fat sow was forced to lie down, Just nigh to a coal pit fe. Exciseman did lie, When four or five colliers b j chance did come by. They shouldered him up and hois$(l him away, Like a pedlar's pack, without any delay ; Into the bucket they handled him down, This jollj Exciseman they got under ground. /ft �3 The Exciseman awakened with terrible fear, Upstarted a collier, says what brought yon hear, Indeed Mr Devil, I don't very well know, But I think I am come to the regions below. Says the collier, what was you in the world above, I was an Exciseman and few did me love; Indeed Mr. Devil the truth I will tell, Since I've got here, Til be what you will. Since you're an Exciseman, here you must remain, You will never get out of this dark cell again; The gates they are fast, and bind you secure. All this you must suffer fot robbing the poor. Indeed Mr. Devil if you'll pity me, No more will I rob the poor you shall see; If you will look over, as you've done before, I never will rob the poor any more. Come give me your money, which now I demand Before you can get to the christian land, 0 yes, Mr. Devil, the Exciseman did say, 1 wish to get back, for to see light of day. DONALD OF DUNDEE. Young Donald is tbe blithest lad That e'er made love to me, Whene'er he's by my heart is glad, He seems so gay and free; �Then on his pipe he plays so sweet, And in his plaid he looks so neat, It cheers my heart at eye to meet Young Donald of Dundee. Whene'er I gang to yonder grove, Young Sandy follows me. And fain he wants to be my love But ah ! it canna be. T W mither frets both ear and late, For me to wed this youth I hate, There's nane need hope to gain young Kate But Donald of Dundee. When last we ranged the banks of Tay The ring he showed to me, And bade me name the bridal day, Then happy would he be. I ken the youth will aye prove kind, Nae mair my mither will I mind, Mess John to me shall quickly bind Young Donald of Dundee. WHEN I WAS YOUNG. When I was young and in my prime, My mother selt good ale; I let the young men kiss my mouth, But guarded well my tail �5 Till on a day came the young laird, And he spoke wondrous crouse, He'd make me lady of all his land, Likewise my mother's house. I answered him right sharply, I said that will not do, But give me fifty pounds in hand And I'll be at bour bow. The money then was telled down, In silver and bright gold, And I gave him my maidenhead, And thought it was well sold. The next he was a weaver lad, Had plenty of yarn and cloth, I got from him fifteen guineas Besides a web of cloth. I put a cod upon my wame, In purpose to enrage him; I got ten guineas then from him, And he begged I would discharge him. The next he was a bold merchant lad, Who had good horse and packs, He swore that he would marry me Whenever he came back. I got from him thirteen guineas, Besides ribbons and rings, And gave him my maidenhead, Which he took in exchange. �6 I put a pack on every haunch, A cod upon my wame. And went unto the market place My merchant for to find. When he saw me he held out his paw, And said, How do you do, But weel I kent he did repent For shame blushed on his brow. I said I came to speak with him, If once the fair was done; So that very night he took the flight, And travelled with the moon. The next was a bold butcher lad, Came past in search of veal, And he was wanting to comply, The flank and wame to fill. He rifled me and touzled me, And made me to comply, I got no more but a veals head, And a gill when he came by. I was tochered now with lint and woo, A purse well worth the picking, I fancied a taylor lad, To whom I had a liking. I sent for him, he came to me, And then I told to him, If he'd agree to marry me I had a house to hold him. �The last of seven maidenheads, So freely then I gave him; 'Twas far better than the rest, For weel I wat it pleased him. ROBIN HQOD. A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singers' joy ; But Scotland has a thief as good, She has her bold outlaw Rob Roy \ A dauntless heart MKJregor shows, And wond'rous length and strength of arm He long has quelled his Highland foes, And kept his Highland friends from harm. A famous man, &c. • • ' . His daring mood p?tftects him still, For 'tis the robber's simple plan, That they should take who have thq will, . nd they should keep who flan. A And while Rob Roy is free to rove, In summer's heat, and winter's snow, - A The eagle he is lord above, And bold Rob Roy is lord below. A famous man, &c. �8 LANGSYNE BESIDE THE WOODLAND BURN. L a n g s y n e beside the woodland burn, Amang the broom sae yellow, I lean'd me 'neath the milkwhite thorn, On nature's mossy pillow; Around my seat the flow'rs were strew'd, That frae the wildwood I had pu'd, To weave mysel' a simmer snood, To pleasure my dear fellow. I twin'd the woodbine round the rose, Its richer hues to mellow, Green sprigs of fragrant birk I chose, To busk the sedge sae yellow. The craw-flow'r blue, and meadow-pink, I wove in primrose braided link, But little, little did I think, I should have wove the willow. My bonnie lad was forced afar, Toss'd on the raging billow, Perhaps he's fa'n in bloody war, Or wrecked on rocky shallow; Yet, aye I hope for his return, As round our wonted haunts I mourn, And aften by the woodland burn, I pu' the weeping willow. � 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 032: Title-page illustration of a soldier with his face turned to the left in an outdoor scene. He is wearing a feathered helmet and cloak. 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 Drunken Exciseman; to which is added, Young Donald of Dundee. When I was Young. Langsyne beside the woodland burn. and Robin Hood. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Young Donald of Dundee When I was Young Langsyne beside the woodland burn Robin Hood Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 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/alma9923302103505154">s0456b37</a> Description An account of the resource 65 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 Alcohol Crime Religion and Morals Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1840-`1850?] # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): military Gender: man/men Weapons: sword(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e33f18ca29803ec9ae2d1c233be0fa77.jpg e816c332cf9b1cad97929bb9def497c6 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a793fb526e3b17708df7c5dcbf3ebdaf.pdf 60acd917e9d72a4d4b28d848ab791c74 PDF Text Text THE Bill OF GORDON'S THREE DAUGHTERS TO WHICH AttE ADDED, THE B R E W E R LADDIE; AND THE HERO MAY PERISH. GLASGOW: FEINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLER* 18. �inmriin m u m n o w SONGS. j jy | (| ; ; t ,r g /s T H E D U K E OF G O R D O N ' S 3 ,, ,v DAUGHTERS. The Duke of Gordon had three daughters, Elizabeth, Margaret, and Jean ; They would not -stay in bonny Castle Gordon, But they went away to bonny Aberdeen. They had not been in bonny Aberdeen, A twelvemonth and a day, Till Jean fell in, lore with Captain Ogilvie, And away with him went she. Word came to the Dul^e of Gordon, In the chamber where he lay, How lady Jean fell in love with a Captain, And from him she would not stay. Go saddle me the black horse, he cried, M y servant shall ride on the grey, And 1 11 go to bonny Aberdeen, Fortwith to bring her away. They were not a mile from Aberdeen, A mile but only one, Till he met with his two daughters, But away was lady Jean. 0 where is your sister, maidens? Where is your sister, now ; 0 where is your sister, maidens, That she's not walking with you ? �3 0 pardon us honoured father! O pardon they did say : Lady Jean is with Captain Ogilvie, And from him she will not stay. When he came to bonny Aberdeen, And down upon the green, There she did see Captain Ogilvie, A training of his men, O woe he to thee Captain Ogilvie ! An ill death thou shalt die, For taking to thee my daughter, High hanged shalt thou be. The Duke of Gordon wrote a broad letter, And sent it to the king, T o cause him hang brave Captain Ogilvie, If ere he caused hang any man. N o I will not hang Captain Ogilvie, For any offence that I see, But 111 cause him to put off the scarlet, And put on the single livery. Now word came to Captain Ogilvie, In the chamber where he lay, To strip off the gold and scarlet, And put on the single livery. If this be for bonny Jeannie Gordon, This penance I'll take wi', If this be for bonny Jeannie Gordon, All this and more I'll dree. �Lady Jean had not been married, A year but only three, Till she bad a babe in every arm, And another on her knee. 0 but I ' m weary wandering! 0 but my fortune is bad, It sets not the Duke of Gordon's daughter, T o follow a soldier lad. O hold your tongue, bonny Jean Gordon, O hold your tongue my lamb, For once I was a noble captain, Now for thy sake a single man. O high was the hills and the mountains, Cold was the frost and s n o w ; Lady Jean's shoes were all torn. N o farther could she go. 0 if I was in the glens of Foudlen, Where hunting I have been, 1 could go to bonny castle Gordon, Without either stockings or sheen. > 0 hold your tongue bonny Jean Gordon, 0 hold your tongue m y dow ; I've but one half-crown in the world, I'll buy hose and shoon to you. W h e n she came to bonny castle Gordon, And coming over the green, The Porter cried out, with a loud voice. Yonder *es our'lady Jean. �5 Yon are welcome bonny Jeannie Gordon, Y o u are dearly welcome to me ; Y o u are welcome, dear Jeanie Gordon, But away with your Ogilvie. Now over the seas went the Captain, As a soldier under command ; But a messenger soon followed after, W h i c h caused a countermand. Come home now, pretty Captain Ogilvie; T o enjoy your brother's land ; Come home now, pretty Captain Ogilvie, You're the heir of Northumberland. O what does this mean? says the Captain, Where's my brother's land : Come home now, pretty Captain Ogilvie, You're the heir of Northumberland. 0 what does this mean ? says the .Captain, Where's my brother's children three ? 0 they are all dead and buried, The lands are all ready for thee. Then hoist up your sails brave Captain, And let's be jovial and free ; m go home and have my estate, And then my dear Jeannie I'll see. He soon came to bonny castle Gordon., And then at the gate stood he ; The Porter cried out with a loud shout, Here comes Captain Ogilvie! �6 You're welcome pretty Captain Ogilvie, Your fortune's advanced I hear, N o stranger can come to m y gates, That I do love so dear. Sir, the last time I was at your gate Y o u would not let me in ; I am come for m y wife and children, N o friendship else I claim. Then she came tripping clown the stair, W i t h the saut tear in her ee, One babe she had at every foot, Another upon her knee. You're welcome, bonny Jean Gordon, You're dearly welcome to me, You're welcome, bonny Jean Gordon, Countess of Northumberland to be. Now the Captain came off with his lady, A n d his sweet babies three, Saying, I ' m as good blood by descent, Though the great Duke of Gordon yon be. THE BREWER LADDIE. In Perth there lived a bonny lad, A brewer to his trade 0 , A n d he has courted P e g g y R o y , A rum and handsome maid 0 . Chorus—She's a rum one fal de reedle ay*do, �He courted her for seven long years, All for to gain her favour. But there came a lad out of Edinburgh town, And he swore that he would have her. Wilt thou go along with me, W i l t thou go my honey ? And wilt thou go alongst with me, A n d leave your own dear Johnnie ? Yes, I'll go along with you, And along with you I'll ride O, Yes, I'll go along with you, Altho' I'm the brewer's bride 0 , The brewer he came home at e'en, Enquiring for his honey, Her father he made this reply, I never seen her since Monday. Be it not or be it so, Little it does grieve me, I'm a young man free as you may see, A n d a small thing will relieve me. There is as good fish in the sea, As ever yet was taken, I'll cast my net once o'er again, Altho' 1 am forsaken. She's rambled up, she's rambled down, She's rambled through Kirkaldy, And many V the time she's rued the day She forsaked her brewer laddie, �8 She's rambled up, she's rambled down, She's rambled through Perth town O, And when she came to the brewer's door. She was ashamed to gang in 0 ! He's drawn his course where e'er he's gane, His country he has fled 0 ! He's not left a shift upon her back, Nor a blanket on her bed 0 ! The brewer he set up in Perth, A n d often brewed strong ale 0 ! And he has courted a bonny las*, And ta'en her to his sell 0 ! Ye lovers all where'er ye be, B y me now take a warning, And never slight your airi true love, For fear you get a vvaur ane. THE HERO M A Y PERISH. The hero may perish, his country to save, And he lives in the records of fame ; The sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave— Ever honour'd and blest be his n a m e ! But virtue that silently toils or expires, No wreath for the brow to entwine: That asks but a smile—but a fond sigh requires 0 woman! that virtua is thine. � 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 032: Title-page illustration of a soldier with his face turned to the left in an outdoor scene. He is wearing a feathered helmet and cloak. 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 Duke of Gordon's three daughters; to which are added, The Brewer Laddie; and The Hero May Perish. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Brewer Laddie The Hero May Perish 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/alma9923302203505154">s0459b39</a> Description An account of the resource 18 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 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 Courtship and Marriage Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): military Gender: man/men Outdoor Scene Weapons: sword(s)