JOHN BARLEYCORN'.

A Ballad.

THERE was three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
An' they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.

They took a plough and plough'd him down,
Put clods upon his head,

And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn was dead.

But the cheerful spring came kindly on,

And show'rs began to fall;
John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris'd them all.

The sultry suns of summer came,
And he grew thick and strong,
His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears,
That no one should him wrong.

The sober autumn enter'd mild,
When he grew wan and pale;

His bending joints and drooping head,
Show'd he began to fail.

His colour sicken'd more and more,

He faded into age;

And then his enemies began

To show their deadly rage.

They've ta'en a weapon, long and sharp,

And cut him by the knee;

Then tied him fast upon a cart,

Like a rogue for forgerie.

This is partly composed on the plan of an old song known by the same name.

They laid him down upon

his back,

And cudgel'd him full sore;
They hung him up before the storm,

And turn'd him o'er and o'er.

They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim,
They heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim.

They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him farther woe,
And still, as signs of life appear'd,
They toss'd him to and fro.

They wasted, o'er a scorching flame,
The marrow of his bones;

But a miller us'd him worst of all,

For he crush'd him between two stones.

And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood, And drank it round and round;

And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise,

For if

you do but taste his blood, "Twill make your courage rise.

'Twill make a man forget his woe; "Twill heighten all his joy:

"Twill make the widow's heart to sing,
Tho' the tear were in her eye.

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;

And may his great posterity

Ne'er fail in old Scotland!

A FRAGMENT.

TUNE-Gillicrankie.

WHEN Guilford good our pilot stood,
And did our helm thraw, man,
Ae night, at tea, began a plea
Within America, man:

Then up they gat the maskin-pat,
And in the sea did jaw, man;
An' did nae less, in full congress,
Than quite refuse our law, man.
Then thro' the lakes Montgomery takes,
I wat he wasna slaw, man;
Down Lowrie's burn he took a turn,
And Carleton did ca', man:
But yet, what-reck, he, at Quebec,
Montgomery-like did fa', man,
Wi' sword in hand, before his band,
Amang his en'mies a', man.

Poor Tammy Gage, within a cage
Was kept at Boston ha', man;
Till Willie Howe took o'er the knowe
For Philadelphia, man:

Wi' sword an' gun he thought a sin
Guid christian blood to draw, man;
But at New-York, wi' knife an' fork,
Sir-loin he hacked sma', man.

Burgoyne gaed up, like spur an' whip,
Till Fraser brave did fa', man;
Then lost his way, ae misty day,
In Saratoga shaw, man.

Cornwallis fought as lang's he dought,
An' did the buckskins claw, mạn;
But Clinton's glaive frae rust to save,
He hung it to the wa', man.

Then Montague, an' Guilford too,
Began to fear a fa', man;

And Sackville doure, wha stood the stoure,
The German chief to thraw, man:
For Paddy Burke, like ony Turk,
Nae mercy had at a', man;
An' Charlie Fox threw by the box,
An' lows'd his tinkler jaw, man,

Then Rockingham took up the game;
Till death did on him ca', man;
When Shelburne meek held up his cheek,
Conform to gospel law, man;
St. Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise,
They did his measures thraw, man;
For North and Fox united stocks,
An' bore him to the wa', man.

Then clubs and hearts were Charlie's cartes,
He swept the stakes awa', man,
Till the diamond's ace, of Indian race,
Led him a sair faux pas, man:
The Saxon lads, wi' loud placads,
On Chatham's boy did ca', man;

An' Scotland drew her pipe, an' blew,

Up, Willie, waur them a', man!'

Behind the throne then Grenville's gone,
A secret word or twa, man;
While slee Dundas arous'd the class
Be-north the Roman wa', man:

SONG.

An' Chatham's wraith, in heavenly graith, (Inspired bardies saw, man)

6

Wi' kindling eyes cry'd, Willie, rise!
Would I hae fear'd them a', man?'

But, word an' blow, North, Fox, and Co.
Gowff'd Willie like a ba', man,

Till Suthron raise, and coost their claise
Behind him in a raw, man;

An' Caledon threw by the drone,

An' did her whittle draw, man;

An' swoor fu' rude, thro' dirt and blood,
To make it guid in law, man.

*

SONG.

TUNE-Corn rigs are bonnie.

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonnie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie:

The time flew by wi' tentless heed,
Till, 'tween the late and early,
Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed,
To see me thro' the barley.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:

I ken'd her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her owre and owre again
Amang the rigs o' barley.

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