Low and a cauf, a yowe and a hauf, And thretty gude shillins and three; A vera gude tocher, a cotter-man's dochter,

The lass with the bonnie black e'e.
The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John
Beguiled the bonnie lassie ;
The lang lad they ca' Jumpin' John
Beguiled the bonnie lassie.

HERE'S TO THY HEALTH, MY BONNIE LASS.

TUNE-"LAGGAN BURN."

HERE'S to thy health, my bonnie lass,
Gude night, and joy be wi' thee;
I'll come nae mair to thy bower door,
To tell thee that I lo'e thee.
O dinna think, my pretty pink,
But I can live without thee:
vow and swear I dinna care
How lang ye look about ye.
Thou'rt aye sae free informing me
Thou hast nae mind to marry;
I'll be as free informing thee
Nae time hae I to tarry.
I ken thy friends try ilka means,
Frae wedlock to delay thee;
Depending on some higher chance-
But fortune may betray thee.

I kon they scorn my low estate,
But that does never grieve me;
But I'm as free as any he,

Sıla' siller will relieve me.

I count my health my greatest wealth,
Sae lang as I'll enjoy it:
I'll fear nae scant, I'll bode nae want,
As lang's I get employment.

But far-aff fowls hae feathers fair,
And aye until ye try them:
Tho' they seem fair, still have a care,
They may prove waur than I am.
But at twal at night, when the moon
shines bright,

My dear, I'll come and see thee; For the man that lo'es his mistress weel, Nae travel makes him weary.

THE CARDIN' O'T.1 TUNE-"SALT FISH AND DUMPLINGS."

I COFT a stane o' haslock woo',
To make a wat2 to Johnny o't;
For Johnny is my only jo,
I lo'e him best of ony yet.

The cardin' o't, the spinnin' o't,
The warpin' o't, the winnin' o't ;
When ilka ell cost me a groat,

The tailor staw the lynin o't.

For though his locks be lyart gray,3
And tho' his brow be beld aboon;
Yet I hae seen him on a day,
The pride of a' the parishen.

The little of this song to which antiquity lays claim, is so trifling that the whole may be said to be the work of Burns. The tenderness of Johnnie's wife can only be fully felt by those who know that hause-lock wool is the softest and finest of the fleece, and is shorn from the throats of sheep in the summer heat."-A. Cunning ham.

2 An outer garment.
3 Mingled with gray.

The cardin' o't, the spinnin' o't, The warpin' o't, the winnin' o't; When ilka ell cost me a groat, The tailor staw the lynin o't.

THE JOYFUL WIDOWER.

TUNE "MAGGY LAUDER." MARRIED with a scolding wife The fourteenth of November; the made me weary of my life, By one unruly member. Long did I bear the heavy yoke, And many griefs attended; But, to my comfort be it spoke, Now, now her life is ended. We lived full one-and-twenty years, A man and wife together; At length from me her course she steer'd, And gone I know not whither : Would I could guess, I do profess, I speak, and do not flatter, Of all the women in the world, I never could come at her.

Her body is bestowed well,

A handsome grave does hide her ; But sure her soul is not in hell,

The deil would ne'er abide her. I rather think she is aloft, And imitating thunder; For why, methinks I hear her voice Tearing the clouds asunder.

THENIEL MENZIE'S BONNIE MARY.

TUNE "THE RUFFIAN'S RANT." IN coming by the brig1 o' Dye, At Darlet we a blink did tarry; As day was dawin in the sky, We drank a health to bonnie Mary. Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary,

Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary; Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie, Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

1 Bridge.

Her een sae bright, her brow sae white
Her haffet locks as brown's a berry
An' aye they dimpled wi' a smile
The rosy cheeks o' bonnie Mary.
Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary,
Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary
Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie

Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary. We lap an' danced the lee-lang day, Till piper lads were wae an' weary But Charlie gat the spring to pay For kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary. Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary,

Theniel Menzie's bonnie Mary. Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

THE FAREWELL

TUNE-" IT WAS A' FOR OUR RIGHTFU KING."

It was a' for our rightfu' King,
We left fair Scotland's strand;
It was a' for our rightfu' King,
We e'er saw Irish land,

My dear,-
We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,
And a' is done in vain ;
My love and native land farewell,
For I maun cross the main,
My dear,-
For I maun cross the main.

He turn'd him right, and round about
Upon the Irish shore:

And gae his bridle-reins a shake,
With adieu for evermore,

My dear,

When day is gane, and night is come,
And a' folk bound to sleep;
I think on him that's far awa,
The lee-lang night, and weep,
My dear,-

The lee-lang night, and weep.

Jamie, come try me,
Jamie, come try me ;
If thou would win my love
Jamie, come try me.

17 IS NA, JEAN, THY BONNIE FACE.

TUNE." THE MAID'S COMPLAINT."

Ir is na Jean, thy bonnie face
Nor shape that I admire,
Although thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awake desire.
Something, in ilka part o' thee,
To praise, to love, I find;
But dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

Nae mair ungen'rous wish I hae,
Nor stronger in my breast,
Than if I canna mak thee sae,
At least to see thee blest.
Content am I, if Heaven shall give
But happiness to thee:

And as wi' thee I'd wish to live,
For thee I'd bear to die.

LANDLADY, COUNT THI

LAWIN.

TUNE "HEY TUTTI, TAITI."
LANDLADY, Count the lawin,'
The day is near the dawin;
Ye're a blind drunk, boys,
And I'm but jolly fou.
Hey tutti, taiti,
How tutti, taiti-
Wha's fou now?

Cog an' ye were aye fou,
Cog an' ye were aye fou,
I wad sit and sing to you,
If ye were aye fou.

Weel may ye a' be!
Ill may we never see!
God bless the King, boys,
And the companie !
Hey tutti, taiti,
How tutti, taiti-
Wha's fou now?

Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never miss'd it yet..
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,
An' could na preach for thinkin' o't.

To the weavers gin ye go, fau maids,

To the weavers gin ye go; I rede' you right, gang ne'er al night,

To the weavers gin ye go.

MY HEART WAS ANCE.

TUNE-"TO THE WEAVERS GIN YE GO."

My heart was ance as blythe and free
As simmer days were lang,
But a bonnie, westlin weaver lad
Has gart' me change my sang.
To the weavers gin ye go, fair
maids,

To the weavers gin ye go;
I rede you right, gang ne'er at night,
To the weavers gin ye go.

My mither sent me to the town,
To warp a plaiden wab;
But the weary, weary warpin o't
Has gart me sigh and sab.
A bonnie westlin weaver lad
Sat working at his loom;
He took my heart as wi' a net,
In every knot and thrum.2

I sat beside my warpin wheel,
And aye I ca'd it roun';
But ever shot and every knock,
My heart it gae a stoun.

The moon was sinking in the west,
Wi' visage pale and wan,
As my bonnie westlin weaver lad
Convoy'd me thro' the glen.

But what was said, or what was done,
Shame fa' me gin I tell;
But, oh! I fear the kintra soon
Will ken as weel's mysel.

I Made.

2 Thread remaining at the end of a web.

O How shall I, unskilfu', try
The poet's occupation,
The tunefu' powers, in happy hours,
That whisper inspiration?
Even they maun dare an effort mair
Than aught they ever gave us,
Or they rehearse, in equal verse,
The charms o' lovely Davies.
Each eye it cheers, when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning,
When past the shower, and ev'ry flower
The garden is adorning.

As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is;
Sae drops our heart when we maun part
Frae charming, lovely Davies.

I wad in vain essay the strain,
The deed too daring brave is;
I'll drap the lyre, and mute admire
The charms o' lovely Davies.

KENMURE'S ON AND AWA.

TUNE-" "0, KENMURE'S ON AND AWA,
WILLIE."

O, KENMURE'S on and awa, Willie !
O, Kenmure's on and awa!
And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord
That ever Galloway saw.

Success to Kenmure's band, Willie !

Success to Kenmure's band; There's no a heart that fears a Whig, That rides by Kenmure's hand. Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie !

Here's Kenmure's health in wine; There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude,

Nor yet o' Gordon's line.

O, Kenmure's lads are men, Willie !
O, Kenmure's lads are men;
Their hearts and swords are metal
true-

And that their faes shall ken.
They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie !
They'll live or die wi' fame;
But soon wi' sounding victorie,

May Kenmure's lord come hame.
Here's him that's far awa, Willie !
Here's him that's far awa;

And here's the flower that I lo'e best'The rose that's like the snaw.

THE CAPTAIN'S LADY. TUNE "O MOUNT AND GO."

CHORUS.

O, mount and go Mount and make you ready; O, mount and go, And

the Captain's Lady.

WHEN the drums do beat,
And the cannons rattle,
Thou shalt sit in state,

And see thy love in battle.
When the vanquish'd foe
Sues for peace and quiet,
To the shades we'll go,
And in love enjoy it.

O, mount and go,
Mount and make you ready:
O, mount and go,

And be the Captain's Lady.

LADY MARY-ANN.

TUNE "CRAIGTOWN'S GROWING'
O, LADY Mary-Ann

Looks o'er the castle wa',
She saw three bonnie boys
Playing at the ba';

The youngest he was

The flower amang them a';
My bonnie laddie's young,
But he's growing yet.

O father! O father!
An' ye think it fit,
We'll send him a year

To the college yet:
We'll sew a green ribbon

Round about his hat,
And that will let them ken
He's to marry yet.

Lady Mary-Ann

Was a flower i' the dew,
Sweet was its smell,

And bonnie was its hue!
And the langer it blossom'd
The sweeter it grew;
For the lily in the bud
Will be bonnier yet.

Young Charlie Cochran
Was the sprout of an aik;
Bonnie and bloomin'

And straught was its make
The sun took delight

To shine for its sake,
And it will be the brag

O' the forest yet.