6 The devil has got the auld wife on his back,

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) And, like a poor pedlar, he's carried his pack; (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

7 He's carried her hame to his ain hallan-door:

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) Syne bade her gae in, for a b—h and a w—e ; (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

8 Then straight he makes fifty, the pick o' his band, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) Turn out on her guard in the clap of a hand;

(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

9 The carline gaed through them like ony wud bear, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) Whae'er she gat hands on came near her na mair ;' (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

10 A reekit wee devil looks over the wa';

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) 'Oh, help, master, help, or she'll ruin us a';' (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

11 The devil he swore by the edge o' his knife,

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) He pitied the man that was tied to a wife; (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

12 The devil he swore by the kirk and the bell, (Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) He was not in wedlock, thank heaven, but in hell; (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

13 Then Satan has travell'd again wi' his pack;

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) And to her auld husband he 's carried her back; (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

14 'I hae been a devil the feck o' my life;

(Hey, and the rue grows bonnie wi' thyme,) But ne'er was in hell, till I met wi' a wife ;' (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.)

YE JACOBITES BY NAME.1

TUNE- Ye Jacobites by name.'

1 YE Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear; Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear;

Ye Jacobites by name,

Your fauts I will proclaim,

Your doctrines I maun blame

You shall hear.

2 What is right and what is wrang, by the law, by the law? What is right and what is wrang by the law? What is right and what is wrang?

A short sword and a lang,

A weak arm, and a strang

For to draw.

3 What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar? What makes heroic strife famed afar?

What makes heroic strife?

To whet th' assassin's knife,

Or hunt a parent's life

Wi' bluidię war.

1 Partly old.

4 Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state ; Then let your schemes alone in the state; .

Then let your schemes alone,

Adore the rising sun,

And leave a man undone

To his fate.

WHEN ROSY MAY.

TUNE The Gardener wi' his paidle.'
1 WHEN rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay green-spreading bowers
Then busy, busy are his hours-

The gardener wi' his paidle.

2 The crystal waters gently fa';
The merry birds are lovers a';
The scented breezes round him blaw-
The gardener wi' his paidle.

3 When purple morning starts the hare
To steal upon her early fare,
Then through the dews he maun repair-
The gardener wi' his paidle.

4 When day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws of Nature's rest,
He flies to her arms he lo'es best-
The gardener wi' his paidle.

BANNOCKS O' BARLEY.

TUNE- The Killogie.'

1 BANNOCKS o' bear meal,
Bannocks o' barley;

Here's to the Highlandman's
Bannocks o' barley.

Wha in a brulzie

Will first cry a parley?
Never the lads wi'

The bannocks o' barley.

2 Bannocks o' bear meal,
Bannocks o' barley;

Here's to the lads wi'

The bannocks o' barley.
Wha in his wae-days

Were loyal to Charlie ?
Wha but the lads wi'

The bannocks o' barley.

HEE BALOU!

TUNE- The Highland Balou.'

1 HEE balou! my sweet wee Donald,
Picture o' the great Clanronald;

Brawlie kens our wanton chief
Wha got my young Highland thief.

2 Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie,
An thou live, thou 'It steal a naigie;
Travel the country through and through,
And bring hame a Carlisle cow.

3 Through the Lawlands, o'er the border,
Weel, my baby, may thou furder;
Herry the louns o' the laigh countrie,
Syne to the Highlands hame to me.

BONNIE PEG.

1 As I came in by our gate end,
As day was waxin' weary ;
Oh, wha cam tripping down the street
But bonnie Peg, my dearie!

2 Her air sae sweet, and shape complete,
Wi' nae proportion wanting,
The Queen o' Love did never move
Wi' motion mair enchanting.

3 Wi' linked hands we took the sands
A-down yon winding river;

And, oh! that hour and broomy bower,
Can I forget it ever!

WEE WILLIE GRAY.

1 WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet ;

Peel a willow-wand to be him boots and jacket;
The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet,
The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet.

2 Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet;

Twice a lily-flower will be him sark and cravat;

Feathers of a flee wad feather

up his bonnet,

Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet.