And sklented on the man of Uzz And how ye gat him i̇' your thrall, And lows'd his ill-tongued, wicked scawl, But a' your doings to rehearse, Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse, And now, auld Cloots, I ken ye 're thinkin', But, faith! he'll turn a corner jinkin', But fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben! I'm wae to think upo' yon den, Even for your sake! HE ON JOHN DOVE, INNKEEPER, MAUCHLINE. ERE lies Johnny Pigeon; Maun follow the carl, For here Johnny Pigeon had nane ! Strong ale was ablution, Small beer persecution, A dram was memento mori; But a full-flowing bowl Was the joy of his soul, And port was celestial glory. THE JOLLY BEGGARS: WHI A CANTATA. RECITATIVO. HEN lyart leaves bestrew the yird, When hailstanes drive wi' bitter skyte In hoary cranreuch drest; In Poosie Nansie's held the splore, First, niest the fire, in auld red rags, And aye he gies the tozie drab The tither skelpin' kiss, While she held up her greedy gab Just like an aumos dish. Ilk smack still, did crack still, AIR. TUNE-Soldiers' Joy. I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars, And shew my cuts and scars wherever I come; This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench, When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum. Lal de daudle, etc. My 'prenticeship I past where my leader breathed his last, When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram ; I served out my trade when the gallant game was played, And the Morro low was laid at the sound of the drum. Lal de daudle, etc. I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating-bat teries, And there I left for witness an arm and a limb; Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me, I'd clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum. Lal de daudle, etc. And now though I must beg, with a wooden arm and leg, And many a tattered rag hanging over my bum, I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle and my callet, As when I used in scarlet to follow a drum. Lal de daudle, etc. What though with hoary locks I must stand the winter shocks, Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home, When the t'other bag I sell, and the t'other bot tle tell, I could meet a troop of h- at the sound of a drum. Lal de daudle, etc. RECITATIVO. He ended; and the kebars sheuk, Aboon the chorus roar; While frighted rattons backward leuk, AIR. TUNE-Soldier Laddie. I once was a maid, though I cannot tell when, And still my delight is in proper young men ; Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie, No wonder I'm fond of a sodger laddie. Sing, Lal de lal, etc. The first of my loves was a swaggering blade, Sing, Lal de lal, etc. But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch, The sword I forsook for the sake of the church; |