Now we maun totter down, John, but hand in hand we'll go,

And we'll sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson, my jo.

LAST MAY A BRAW WOOER.

Tune-"The Lothian Lassie."

LAST May a braw wooer cam' down the lang
glen,

And sair wi' his love he did deave me ;
I said there was naething I hated like men :
The deuce gae wi' him to believe me, believe

me,

The deuce gae wi' him to believe me!

He spak' o' the darts o' my bonnie black een,
And vow'd for my love he was deein'

I said he micht dee when he liked for Jean;
The guid forgi'e me for in', for lecin',
The guid forgi'e me for leci.'!

A weel-stockit mailin', himsell for the laird,
And marriage aff-hand, were his proffer.
I never loot on that I kenn'd it or cared;
But thocht I might hae a waur offer, waur
offer,

But thought I might hae a waur offer.
But, what wad ye think, in a fortnicht or less,

The deil's in his taste to gang near her!-
He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess-
Guess ye how, the jaud! I could bear her,

could bear her,

Guess ye how, the jaud! I could bear her!

But a' the neist weck, as I fretted wi' care,
I gaed to the tryst o' Dalgarnock;
And wha but my braw fickle wooer was there?
Wha glowr'd as he had seen a warlock, a
warlock,

Wha glowr'd as he had seen a warlock.

Out ower my left shouther I gi'ed him a blink,
Lest neebors micht say I was saucy;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie.

I speir'd for my cousin, fou couthie and sweet,
Gin she had recover'd her hearin'?

And how my auld shoon fitted her shauchled
feet?*

Gude sauf us! how he fell a-swearin', aswearin',

Gude sauf us! how he fell a-swearin'.

* In Scotland, when a cast-off lover pays his addresses to a new mistress, that new mistress is said to have got the auld shoon (old shoes) of the former one. Here the metaphor is inade to carry an extremely ingenious sarcasm at the clumsiness of the new mistress's person.

And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnignt rest,
Enclasped to my faithful breast,
I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O.
Lassie, wi', &c.

LAY THY LOOF IN MINE, LASS
Tune-"O lay the loof in mine, lass.”
O LAY thy loof in mine, lass,
In mine, lass, in mine, lass;
And swear on thy white hand, lass,
That thou wilt be my ain.

A slave to love's unbounded sway,
He aft has wrought me muckle wae;
But now he is my deadly fae,

Unless thou be my ain.

There's mony a lass has broke my rest,
That for a blink I hae lo'ed best;
But thou art queen within my breast,
For ever to remain.