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Woodcut portraying a old man wearing hat, long coat, and striped socks and leaning against a walking stick in outdoor scene
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Text
BUKMS'
SONGS.
No. 1.
ILLUSTRATED.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
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BURNS 5 SONGS.
. 9 7 f f i O ' A eisbiHirii ^flife^/nn oY
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LORD
GREGORY.
O mirk, mirk is the midnight hour
And loud the tempest r o a r ;
A waefu' wanderer se.eks thy iojv'r,
Lord Gregory, op^th^abor.'
A n exile frae her father's ha',
And a' for loving tllee ; .» >Uh:
A t least some .pity, on -me show^
If love it may na be.
Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not."the grove,
B y boimie Irwine" side,
Where first I own'd that virgin love
I lang, lang had denied.
�SONGS.
How afberi didst thou pledge and vow,
Thou would for ay be mine;
And my fond heart, itsel sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast:
Thou dart of heaven that flashest by,
O wilt thou giye me rest !
Ye mustering thunders from above,
Your willing victim see !
But spare, and pardon my false love,
His wrangs to heaven and me !
•worf ^rTginlurfi
si A-iim r;Aii err O
• 'iKO't T^wnwt of • • hoof btfA
v A
H I G H L A N D MARY.
Ye banks, and braes and streams around,
The castle o' Montgomery,
©reen be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie !
There summer first unfolds her robes,
And there tke laugest tarry;
F©r there I took the last fareweel
©' my sweet Highland Mary.
'
4
i
�SONGS.
How sweetly bloom'd the gay geeen birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom;
As underneath the fragrant shade,
1 clasp'd her to my bosom;
The golden hours on angel wings,
Flew o're me and my dearie;
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.
Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu5 tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursel's asunder;
But Oh! fell death's untimely frost,
'i hat nipt my flower sae early !
Now green's the sod and cauld's the clay,
/I'laat wraps my Highland Mary !
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
1 aft hae lriss'd sae fondly S
And closed for ay, the sparkling glance,
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'd me dearly!
Bnt still within my bosom's core,
Shall live my Highland Mary,
CLARINDA.
Clarinda, mistress of my soul,
The measured time is run !
The wretch beneath the dreary pole,
So marks his latest stin.
To what dark cave of frozen night,
Shall poor Sylvander H e ; —
Deprived of thee,Ins life and light,
The sun of all his joy.
We part—but, by these precious drops,
That fill thy lovely eyes I]
No other light shall guide my steps
Till thy bright bea<ms arise.
She, the fair sun of all her sex,.
Hast blest my glorious day ;
And shall a glimmering planet fix
My worship to; its v ay ?
�SONGS.
MY WIFE'S A WINSOME W E E T H I N G .
( ii aiini. txsmsLi «aii t&a sl&a O
She is a winsome wee thing-,
She is a hansorae wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.
ttkrjjp jri&Iia in wofi •%nvLOvitJOhi uni.
I never saw a fairer,
I never lo'ed a dearer,
And niest my heart I'll wear her,
For fear my jewel tine.
She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
The is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.
The warld's wrack we share o't,
The warstle and the care o't;
Wi' her I'll blithly bear it,
And think my lot divine *
gq
, •• ; I vrf Jud—i-isq <>7/
\\.Sro vb'/ol vdi lift JsiiT
tbw-g Iteite Jdfcjl isdio oV\
TO MARY.
Will ye go to the Indies my Mary,
And leave auld Scotia's shore ?
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
Across th' Atlantic's roar ?
6
�SONGS.
0 sweet grows th6 lime and the orange,
And the apple on the pine;
But a' the charms o' the Indies,
Can never equal thine.
1 hae sworn by the heavens to my Mary,
I hae sworn by the heavens to be true
And sae may the heavens forget me,
When I forget my vow!
O plight me your faith my Mary,
And plight me your lily-white hand;
• O plight me your faith, my Mary,
Before I leave Scotia's strand.
We have plighted our troth, my Mary,
In mutual affecton to join,
And curst be the cause that shall part us!
The hour and the moment o' time!
,ed vrobnin yds 3n
O
! i sod boi-rii si 1 J ,5'rieifr edi ei j l
GALLA WATER.
There's braw, braw lads on Yrrow braes,
That wander thro' the blooming heather;
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettric shaws,
Can match the lads o' Galla water.
7
�SONGS.
Bat there is ane, a secret ane,
Abyn t i e n a* I ,lo'e him better;
And I'll be his, and heUl be'mine,
The bonnie, lad o* Galla water.
Altho' his daddie was iiae laird,
And tho • 1 hae nae meikle tocher;
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll ten tour flocks by Galla water.
; y/O'/ (tn jtygio'* I nod//"
It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment,
peace, or pleasure}
The bands and chiefest mutual love,
0 that's the bliss o* warld's treasure I
#
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MARY MORIS ON.
0 Mary at thy window be,
It is the wish'd, the tryted hour !
Those smiles and glances let me see,
That make the miser's treasure poor ;
How blithly wad I bide* the stoure,
A weary slave frae sun to sun;
€k>uld I the rich reward secure,
The lovely Mary Morison.
Yestreen when to the trembling string,
The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing,
1 sat, but neither heard nor saw :
Tho' this was fair, and that was braw,
And you the toast of a' the town,
1 sigh'd, and said amang them a',
" Ye are na Mary Morison."
I
'
SPH S £
, ' O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wad gladly die ?
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
Whase only ftiut i? lo.ving thee?
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pity to me shown!
A thought ungentle canna be
The thought o' Mary Morison.
8
�SONGS.
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W A N D E R I N G WILLIE.
* fM
/jbw
Here awa, there awfc, pandering Wilie,
Now tired with wandering, haud away hame
Come to my bosom my ae only dearie,
And tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the
same.
Loud blaw the cauld winter winds at pu^
•
parting
(TAJ YJfi
*
It was na a blast brouglifc the tear to my
:
11
JMIrV ® >
< X d<no6 i n bme •iteidwO
Now welcome the summer, and welcome my
Willie^
The simmer to nature, my Willie to me. <
<om fuioo 03 omoo ov (foih/
vlhev?
:
M8Y><ioad oiij easlnxr tut dxnoQ bnA
Ye hurricane rest in the cave o' your slum^
bers,
O how your wild horrors a lover alarms!
Awaken ye breezes, row gently ye billows,
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my
orn
aa on > ,,».
..uu te 10 t>fiiif $ a
.•"''•- i
O[it Vti
But if.he's forgottenhis faithfullest Nannie,
O still flow between us, thou wide roaring
main;
.o».jtooi.J®Y
v
May I never see it, may X never trotw it,
But dving believe tfyat iny Willie's my ain.
9
�SONS .
OPEN THE DOOR T O ME, OT
Oh, open the door, some pity to show,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh!
Tho' thou hast been f&lse, 111 ever prove true
Oh, open the door to me, Oh !
Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,
But eaulder thy o ve for me, Oh!
The frost that freezes the life at my heart,
Is nought to my pains frae thee, Oh !
The wan moon is setting behind th' white wave
And time is setting with me, Oh !
False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh f
She has open'd the door, she has opened it
wide;
She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh !
My true love, she cried, arid sank down by his
side,
Never t© rise again, Oh!—
WHISTLE, A N D I'LL COME TO Y O U
MY L A D .
O whistle and I'll come to you my lad:
O whistle and I'll come to you my lad:
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mady
O whistle and I'll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yet t be a-jee ;
Sine up the back-stile, and let na body see*,
And come as ye were na comin to me,
And come, &c.
O whistle, &c.
At kirk, or at market, whene're you see me
Gang by me as tho' ye car'd na a flie;
But steal me a blink o'your bonnie black ere
Yet look as ye were na looking at me.
Yet look, &c.
O whistle, &c.
10
�SONGS.
A y vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But courtnaanither, tho'jokin ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.
For fear, &c.
O whistle, &e.
B O N N I E JEAN.
There was a lass, and she was fair,
At kirk and matket to be seen,
When a' the fairest maids were met,
The fairest maid was bonny Jean.
And aye she wrought her minnie's wark,
And aye she sang sae mirrilie :
The blithest bird upon the bush
Had ne'er a lighter heart than she.
But hawks will robe the tender joys
That bless the little lintwhite's nest;
And frost will blight the fairest flowr's,
And love will break the soundest rest.
Young Robie was the brawest lad,
The flower and pride of a' the glen;
And he had owsen, sheep and kye,
And waton naigies nine or ten.
He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste,
He danc'd wi' Jeanie on the down;
And lang ere witless Jeanie wist,
Her heart was tint, her peace was stown.
A s in the bossom o' the stream,
The moon beams dwell at dewy e'en;
So trembling, pure, was tender love,
Within the breast o' bonny Jean.
And now she works her mammie's wark
And aye she sighs wi' care and pain;
Yet wist na what her ail may be,
Or what wad mak her weel again.
But did na Jeanie's heart loup light,
And did na joy blink in her e'e,
As Robie tauld a tale o' love.
Ae e'enm' on the lily lea?
IX
�S O ^ .
T t e sttii l ^ ' p & i i i g in tfie * e s t ,
'The birds sing stteet in ilka grove 1 ;
His cheek to hers he foundly prest,
And if htepei'd timfc his ta3e o' love:
O Jeanie fair, I lo'e thee, dear^
O canst thou think to fancy me,
Or wilt thou leave t h y TEinmmie's cot,
And learn t o teiil t h e fems wi' me ?
A t barn Qr¥tre thoii shalt na drudge,
Or nathing else to trouble thee *
y
But stray amang ,tM heather bells,
And tent the waving ^orn wi'me.
Now "ivhat could artless Jeanie do ?
u I.
She had ma ^iH to say him nd: /j- u , /
>
A t length she-blush'd a sweet cbnseiit,
'
And love was aye between them t w i .
eYOf.ioi>j«9i odJ ad07 II iw aiiv/Bfi one?
A
taohiwoe
oils ilwid
IIiw e vol 1mA
oiM a£w oidofl
rn hi
M E G O' T H E MILL.
O ken ye what Meg o 7 the Mill his gotten,
An' ken y6 what Meg o' the Mill has gotten
She has gotton a coof wir a Claut o' siller.
And broken the heart o7 the Mrley Miller.
12
�SONGS.
The Miller was stfappen,the Miller was ruddy
A heart like a lord, an4 a hue like a M y :
The laird was a widdiefii', bleerit knurl
She's left the guid fellow and taen the chttrl.
The miller he hecht her a heart leal and l i v ing
[moving,
The Laird did address her tri' matter rfikir
A fine pacing horse wi'|a clear chained bridle,
A whip by her side, and a bonnie side-sadle.
. a r T & Q TYVAJXl
O wae on the siller, it is sae prevaling,
And wae on the love that is fix'd on a malen .
A tocher's nae word in a true lover's parle
But, gie me my love, ahd a fig for the WEtrl!
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f
rt-nitI ,'i;»ijtb teivi>a xHvsiil
; 'jv.' vid) 01ii ln*HB h i r.-v.d?
JOHN A N D E R S O N MY JO.
John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquant,
Your locks were like the ravens,
Your bonny brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.
13
�SONGS.
John Anderson, my joe, John,
"We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi* ane anither ;
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in had we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my j o.
DAINTY DAVIE.
Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay, green spreading bowers,
And now comes in my happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.
Chorus.
Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie,
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear dainty Davie.
The crystal waters round us fa',
The merry birds are lovers a*,
The s«ented breezes round us blaw
A wandering wi' my Davie,
Meet me, &c.
When purple morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,
Then thro' the dews I will repair.
To meet my faithfu' Davie.
Meet me, &e.
When day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws o* nature's rest.
I flee to his arms I lo'e best,
And that's my ain dear Davie.
Meet me, &c.
AULD L A N G SYNE.
Should
And
Should
And
auld acquaintance be forgot,
never brought to min' ?
auld acquaintance be forgot,
days o* lang syne ?
14
�SONGS.
Chorus.
For auld land syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
"We'll tak a cup a' kindness yet
For auld laug syne.
We twa hae rnn about the braes,
And pu't the gowans fine
Bu^ we've wandered mony a weary foot.
Sin auld lang syne,
For auld, &c.
We twa hae paidl't i' the burn,
Frae mornin sun till dine :
But seas between braid hae roar'd,
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld, &e.
And here's a hand my trusty fier,
And gie's a hand o* thine;
And we'll talk a guid willie-waught,
For auld lang syne,
For auld, &c.
And surely ye'll be your pint stoup>
And surely I'll be mine ;
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld (^c.
BANNOCK B U R N .
Scots wha ha wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to glorious victory.
Now's the day and now's the hour;
See the front of battle lower;
See approach proud Edward's power—r
Edward I chaius and slavery r
Wha will be a trator knave ?
Wha would fill a coward's grave ?
Wha sae base as be a slave ?
Traitor, coward, turn and flee.
15
�SONGS.
Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand or free-man fa'
Caledonia, 911 wi' me !
By oppression's woes^'and
!
By your sons in sea-vile chains,
We will dram our dearest veins,
But th§y shali be—shall be free ! <«v\- .
!
Lay the proud usurpers low !
Tyrants fall in every foe ?
liberty's in every, bio
,
Forward, let us.
or
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CONTENED WI' L I T T L E .
Contented wi' little and can tie wi' nuiir,
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care,
I gie him a skelp, as they're creeping alang
Wi'.a cod o' guid swats, and an auld Scottish
sang.
•
' ? " I whyles claw the elbow 0' troublesome
Thought;
But man is a soger, amd 1'ife is a fauglit:
it
�SONGS.
My mirth and gyid humpnr are coin in my
pouch,
And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch
dare touch.
A twomond o' trouble, should that be my
A night o' guid fellowship sowthers it a%
When at the blithe end o' our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has
past
Blind chanca, let her snapper and sfayte on
her way,
gae,
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade
Come ease, or come travail, come pleasure
or pain.
My warst word is—" Welcome and welcome
1 ' n f ^ r f / ^ rr A ti?
[« };> worfa Vhnrv bnA
Mi07 ?l9noi erii oaf oiO
- ban
yyrab »dT
SHE*-.SAYS
SHE L©*ES:- M E B E S T
OF A ' .
Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
B e witchin giy ! o'^r-ar ch ing
Twa laughmg' een o' bonny blue,
Her smiling sae wyling,
Wad make a wretch forget his woe ;
What pleasure,'" what treasure,
Utito these rosy lips to gvqw!
�SONGS.
Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,
When first her bonnie face I saw;
And ay my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.
Like harmony her motion;
Her pretty ancle is a spy
Betraying fair proportion,
Wad make a saint forget the sky.
Sae warming, sae charming,
Her faultless form, andgracefu' air;
Ilk feature—auld nature
Declared that she could do namair.
Her's are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering beauty's sovereign law;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charms,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.
Let others love the city,
And gaudy show at sunny noon ;
Gie me the lonely valley,
The dewy eve, and rising moon:
<
Fair beaming, and streaming,
Her silvery light the boughs amang;
While falling, recalling,
The amrous thrust concludes her sang;
There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove
By whimpling burn and leafy shaw,
And hear my vows o' truth and love^
And say thou lo'es best of a'
O, W A T YE WHA'S IN YON
TOWN
O, wat ye wha' in yon town,
Ye see the e'ening sun upon ?
The fairest dame's in yon town,
That e'ening sun is shining on.
Now haply down yon gay green shaw,
She wanders by yon spreading tree;
How blest ye flow'rs that round her blaw,
Ye catch the glances o' her e'e.
�SONGS.
How blest ye birds that round her sing,
And welcome in the blooming year!
And doubly welcome be the spring,
The season to my Lucy dear.
The sun blinks blithe on yon town,
And on yon bonnie braes of Ayr;
But my delight in yon town,
And dearest bliss, is Lucy fair.
Without my love, not
the charms
O' Paradise could yield me joy;
But gie me Lucy in my arms,
And welcome Lapland's dreary sky.
My cave wad be a lover's bower,
Tlio' raging winter rent the air :
And she a lovely little flower,
That I wad tent and shelter there.
O, sweet is she in yon town,
Yon sinkin sun's gane down upon,
A fairer than's in yon town.
His setting beam ne'er shone upon.,
If angry fate is sworn my foe,
And suffering I am doom'd to bear;
I careless quit aught else below.
But spare me, spare me, Lucy dear.
For while life's dearest blood is warm,
Ae thought frae her shall ne'er depart,
And she—as fairest is her form,
She has the truest kindest heart.
\vd m i d a i r
.h^ibwoo alT
.j^rf* 'J- tot ™oq od o-ifii) oW
ft > BBitiiB18 e,j
LASSIE
wr
THE
LINT
WHITE
LOCKS.
lOlZCfT li jiU •.: J
/." bilis
Vhorus.
i' -. 'i'ioflt ?.TxO-'n oiO
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tend the flocks,
Wilt thou be my dearie, O ?
19
�SONGS.
Now nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee ;
O wilt thou share its sweets wi' me,
And say thou'lt be my dearie, O
La^ie wi', &c.
•
And when the welcome simmer-shower
Has cheered ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
A t sultry noon my dearie, O.
Las&ie wi', &c,
When Cynthia lights, with silver ray,
The weary shearer's hameward way ;
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,
And talk o' love my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest ;
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast,
I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
\
.•:
>m
.0U£
FOR A' T H A T A N D A' THAT.
J'mq& itfzHS IIisifH -nd eatf iif^uorft 9 A
Is there, for honest poverty.
That hangs his head and a' that,
The coward slave we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that.
For a' that an a' that.
Our toils obscure, and a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden gray an' a' that,
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that.
For a' that and a' that,
Their tinsel show and a'that,
The honest man, tho' ne'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.
20.
�SONG&
Y e see yon birkie ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that,
Tho' hundreds worship J at his wbrd',;
He's but a coof for a ' t ^ a t . ^ worioa Jtr££
For a' that anil .a' that,
..
His riband ;( star, a o d j i ' that,
The man of independ^t nwid r
He looks and laughs at a' that. ..
A prince can mak a belted knight, ;
'
A marquis, duke, and a' that,
But an honest' man's aboon his might,
Guid faith he mauna fa' that I
F o r a' that and a' that*
Their dignities and a ' t h a t ,
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth
Are higher ranks than a' that.
, ' .;
I I >- r - i -'Hi
..
Then let us pray that pome it may,
A s come it will for a' that,
That sense- and worth o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree and a' that>
F o r a ' t h a t and a ' t h a t ,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That man to man the warld <5'br,
Shall brothers, be for a' that,
' t-,h&H i'Sd m Tiff 9% 'Sittbaff I
v/Cr 'a 'Ur sodx 'coB!
9B8 Hoof 'jmbeen o T
Z 'l t e s d I , / d d i T O
TIBBY I HAE SEEN THE DAY.
.TTTAM O /IO:W A (VYl'dUtl Y J J I W
Chorus.
,'
0 Tifcbv, I hae seen the day,
Y e would na bo ^ae shy,
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care, na by.
Yestr^eoi I met you on the moor,
Y e spak na, but gaed by like stoure :
Y e geek at me t|ceause I'm ppor,
But fi'.ent a Jlare care I ?
O Tibby, &c.
1 doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye hae the name o' eMuk,
21
�SONGS.
That ye can please me at a winkj
Whene'er ye like to try.
O Tibby I hae, &c.
nr
But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean,
Although his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows ony saucy quean,
AT
That looks sae proud and high.
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
Altho' a lad were ne'er so smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head auither airt,
And answer him fu' dry.
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
But if he hae the uame o' gear,
Ye'11 fasten to him like a brier,
Tho' hardly he for sense or lear,
Be better than the kye.
O Tibby, I hae, &o.
But, Tibby, lass, tak' my advice,
Your daddie's gear make ycu sae nice;
The deil a ane wad spier your price,
Were ye as poor as I,
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
There lives a lass in yonder park,
I wadna' gie her in her sark,
For thee wi' a' thy thousand mark;
Ye needna' look sae high.
O Tibby, I hae, &c.
'
'
"
•
WILLY BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT.
O, Willie brew'd a peck o' mau't,
And Rab and Allan cam to see;
Three blither hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wadna'find in Christendie.
We are na' fov, we'rena that fou,
But just a drappy in our e'e ;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
But aye we'll taste the barley bree.
Jlere are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mair we hope to be.
We are na fou, &c.
22
�SONGS.
It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinkin' in the lift sae high;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee,
"We are na fou, &c.
Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold, coward loon is he,
Wha last beside his chair shall fa'
H e is the king amang us three.
We are na fou, &c.
BlO
W H A T CAN A YOUNG LASSIE D O
.....
WI' A N AULD M A N ?
What ean a young lassie, what shall a young
lassie,
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld
man ?
Bad luck to the penny that tempted my
minnie,
T o sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan',
Bad luek
the penny, &o.
o r . He's always oompleenin, raornin to e'enin,
He hosts an' he hirples the weary day lang,
He's dole and he's dozen his bluid it is frozen
0 dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man,
He hums and he hankers, he frets and he
cankers,
1 never can please him do a' that I can;
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young
ei: —
fellows:
O, 4oo! on the day I met wi' an auld man,
01.
02. My auld auntie Katie upon me taks pity,
I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
12,
I'H erOss him, and wrack him, until I heartbreak him, • u! C
22.
And then his auld brags will buy me anew
pan.
,.. c a£ffi via,: ii£
�moil 'ion no>l I Jroom Offi si JI
CONTENTS.
.,! - T ft4
tn^'M •
ciMiiiirf .>;• -
.rwg - acv, oi oah IteiiafcrrftfiriV/"
Lord Gregory,.,,
................................ 3
Highland
4
Clarinda,
5
My Wiije 's a .Winsome Wee
T h i n g , 6
To Mary,
6
Galla Water,:..
Mary Morison,
8
Wandering Willie,
9
Open the Door to me*, O . . . . . . .vj. ...
_
. T
. r-rhrt
Bonnip Jean,
......
Meg o' the Mill,
.. 10
, .
~
12
Whistle,and I'll come to you, my M , . , ; ^ . 1 0
Dainty Davie,
Auld Lang
Bannockbura,.
...
.... .....
14
r
14
Htrmfvtff" 1 5
She says she lo'es me best of
Wat ye wha's in yon town,.
Lassie wi' the lint white locks..^...q..**;••••«••••-••
19
Contented wi' little,.
For a' that and a' that...................
16
—.20
Tibby I ha'e $ee,n the day*.
Willy brew'd a peck o' maut...<.
22
John can a young jo,
13
What Anderson my lassie d^ wi' an auld man?...23
�
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 031: Title-page illustration of a man wearing a hat, long coat, and long striped socks, leaning against a walking stick in an outdoor scene.
Document
A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
Burns' Songs. No.1. Illustrated.
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
<a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923277513505154">s0556b39</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
Extent
The size or duration of the resource.
24 pages and 11 Woodcuts
16 m
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
ca.1860 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.
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Burns, Robert, 1759-1796
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
poetry
Subject
The topic of the resource
Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow
# of Woodcuts: 11
Bib Context: title-page
Chapbook Date: 1851-1860
Chapbook Date: 1861-1870
Chapbook Genre: ballads & songs
Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers
Fashion (Clothing): Highland attire
Fashion (Clothing): working class
Gender: man/men
Nature: hill(s)
Object: sporran/purse
Object: walking stick/ staff
Outdoor Scene