When the drums do beat, And see thy love in battle. When the vanquish'd foe OH, MERRY HAE I BEEN TEETHIN' A HECKLE. Oн, merry hae I been teethin' a heckle, And kissin' my Katie when a' was done. Bitter in dool I lickit my winnin's, O' marrying Bess, to gie her a slave: Blest be the hour she cool'd in her linens, And blithe be the bird that sings on her grave! Come to my arms, my Katie, my Katie, And come to my arms and kiss me again! Drunken or sober, here's to thee, Katie ! And blest be the day I did it again. EPPIE ADAIR. Tune-" My Eppie." AND oh! my Eppie, 1 Fondle my dearie. And oh my Eppie, YOUNG JOCKEY. Tune-"Young Jockey." "THE whole of this song," says Stenhouse, "excepting three or four lines, is the production of Burns.' YOUNG Jockey was the blithest lad My Jockey toils upon the plain, Through wind and weet, through frost and snaw; And o'er the lea I leuk fu' fain When Jockey's owsen hameward ca', And aye the night comes round again, And aye he vows he'll be my ain, WEE WILLIE GRAY. WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet; The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet, Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, Twice a lily flower will be him sark and cravat: 1 Plough. 2 Praised. The chorus of the song which celebrates the battle where Viscount Dundes jel a the momen of victury, as ; the rest as from the pen of Burns. GUIDWIFE, COUNT THE LAWIN. Tune-"Guidwife, count the lawin." GANE is the day, and mirk's the night, But we'll ne'er stray for faut o' light, For ale and brandy's stars and moon, And blude-red wine's the rising sun. Then, guidwife, count the lawin, There's wealth and ease for gentlemen, My coggie is a haly pool, That heals the wounds o' care and dool; And pleasure is a wanton trout, An ye drink but deep ye'll find him out. WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T. Tune-"Whistle o'er the lave o't." FIRST when Maggy was my care, Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, How we live, my Meg and me, 1 Bumper. OH, CAN YE LABOUR LEA. OH, can ye labour lea, young man, I fee'd a man at Martinmas, The stibble-rig is easy plough'd, WOMEN'S MINDS. Tune-"For a' that." THOUGH Women's minds, like winter winds, A consequence I draw that. For a' that, and a' that, And twice as muckle's a' that, Great love I bear to all the fair, But there is ane aboon the lave,1 Has wit, and sense, and a' that; A bonny lass, I like her best, And wha a crime dare ca' that? IT IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNY FACE. Tune-"The Maid's Complaint." "THESE verses," says Cunningham, "were originally in English: Burns be stowed a Scottish dress upon them, and made them utter sentiments connected with his own affections." 1 Rest. |