TIBBIE DUNBAR.

The person who composed the air of this song was a Girvan fiddler, a Johnny M'Gill-he named it after himself,

Tune.-Johnny M'Gill.

WILT thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car, Or walk by my side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar ? I carenal thy daddie, his lands and his money, I carena thy kin, sae high and sae lordly: But say thou wilt hae me for better for waur," And come in thy coatie, sweet Tibbie Dunbar.

ROBIN SHURE IN HAIRST.

First published in the Poetry, Original and Selected, by Brasha and Reid, of Glasgow.

CHORUS.

Robin shure in hairst,

I shure wi' him,

Fient a heuk" had 1,

Yet I stack by him.

I CAED up to Dunse,
To warp a waby o' plaiden,
At his daddie's yett,

Wha met me but Robin.

Was na Robin bauld,a

Though I was a cotter,

Play'd me sich a trick

And me the eller's dochter ?c
Robin shure, &c.

q Care not for.

* Went.

r Worse. s Did shear, or reap, in harvest. A petty oath of negation. u Reaping-hook. y Web. z Gate. a Bold. c Elder's daughter.

w Stuck. b Such.

Robin promis'd me

A' my winter vittle ;d

Fient haet he had but three

Goose feathers and a whittle.

Robin shure, &c.

MY LADY'S GOWN THERE'S GAIRS UPON T

The original of this song will be found in Sibbald's
Chronicle of Scottish Poetry.

CHORUS.

My lady's gown there's gairs upon 't,e
And gowden flowers sae rare upon 't ;
But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,8
My lord thinks muckle mairh upon 't.

My lord a-hunting he is gane,

But hounds or hawks wi' him are nane,
By Colin's cottage lies his game,
If Colin's Jenny be at hame.

My lady's gown, &c.

My lady's white, my lady 's red,
And kith and kin o' Cassillis' blude,
But her ten-pund lands o' tocherk guid
Were a' the charms his lordship lo'ed.
My lady's gown, &c.

Out o'er yon muir, out o'er yon moss,
Whare gor-cocks thro' the heather pass,
There wons auld Colin's bonnie lass,
A lily in a wilderness.

My lady's gown, &c.

Sae sweetly move her gentym limbs,
Like music notes o' lover's hymns:
The diamond dew in her een sae blue,
Where laughing love sae wanton swims.
My lady's gown, &c.

d Victuals.

e Triangular pieces of cloth sewed on the bottom of it.

FEasy stays. g Short gown. h Much more. i Kindred. & Marriage portion. / Dwells. m Elegantly formed.

My lady's dink," my lady 's drest,
The flower and fancy o' the west;
But the lassie that a man lo'es best,
O that's the lass to make him blest.
My lady's gown, &c.

WEE WILLIE GRAY.

doublet,

This and the following two verses are imitations of old songs 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 Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet; Twice a lily flower will be him sark and cravat: Feathers of a fleep wad feather up his bonnet, Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet.

O GUID ALE COMES.

CHORUS.

O guid ale comes, and guid ale goes,
Guid ale garsa me sell my hose,
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon,
Guid ale keeps my heart aboon.

I HAD sax owsen' in a preugh,
They drew a' weel eneugh
I sell❜d them a' just ane by ane;
Guid ale keeps my heart aboon.
Guid ale hauds me bare and busy,
Gars me moop wi' the servant hizzie,
Stand i' the stoolt when I hae done,
Guid ale keeps my heart aboon.

O guid ale comes, &c.

n Neat, trim.
r Six oxen.

o Little. s Holds.

p Fly.

q Makes,

Stool of repentanco.

O LAY THY LOOF IN MINE, LASS. Written for the Museum. The chorus is partly old.

O lay thy loof in mine, lass,

In mine, lass, in mine, lass,
And swear in thy white hand, lass,
That thou wilt be my ain.

A SLAVE to love's unbounded sway,
He aft has wrought me meikle wae;"
But now he is my deadly fae,
Unless thou be my ain.
O lay thy loof, &c.

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

EXTEMPORE.*

April, 1782.

O WHY the deuce should I repine,
And be an ill foreboder?
I'm twenty-three, and five feet nine-
I'll go and be a sodger.

I gat some gear wi' meikle care,

I held it weel thegither;

But now it's gane and something mair,
I'll go and be a sodger.

O LEAVE NOVELS.

Extracted from the Poet's memorandum book, when farmer o
Mossgiel.

O LEAVE novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel;

" Palm of the hand.

w Much woe.

An early production.

Such witching books are baited hooks,
For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgiel.
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
They make your youthful fancies reel,
They heat your brains, and fire your veins,
And then you're prey for Rob Mossgiel
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung;
A heart that warmly seems to feel;
That feeling heart but acts a part,
'Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel.
The frank address, the soft caress,
Are worse than poison'd darts of steel,
The frank address, and politesse,
Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.

O AY MY WIFE SHE DANG ME.

The chorus and the two concluding lines of this song are from an old ballad of considerable length, which tradition has still preserved in Kincardineshire.

CHORUS.

O ay my wife she dang me,
An' aft my wife she bang'd me;

If ye gie a woman a' her will,
Guid faith she'll soon o'ergang ye.

ON peace and rest my mind was bent,
And fool I was I marry'd;

But never honest man's intent,
As cursedly miscarry'd.

Some sairie comfort still at last,

When a' thirx days are done, man,

My pains o' hell on earth is past
I'm sure o' bliss aboon, man.
O ay my wife, &c.

z These.