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But spare to speak, and spare to speed;
She'll aiblins listen to my vow:
Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead
To her twa een sae bonnie blue.

THE BANKS OF NITH.

TUNE-Robie Donna Gorach.

THE Thames flows proudly to the sea,
Where royal cities stately stand;
But sweeter flows the Nith to me,

Where Cummins ance had high command:
When shall I see that honour'd land,
That winding stream I love so dear!
Must wayward fortune's adverse hand
For ever, ever keep me here?

How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales,

Where spreading hawthorns gaily bloom; How sweetly wind thy sloping dales,

Where lambkins wanton thro' the broom! Tho' wandering, now, must be my doom, Far from thy bonnie banks and braes, May there latest hours consume,

my

Amang the friends of early days!

JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.

JOHN Anderson my jo, John,

When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,

Your bonnie brow was brent;

TAM GLEN.

But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John,

We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson my jo.

TAM GLEN.

TUNE-The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre.

My heart is a breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len', anger them a' is a pity;

To

But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?

I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fallow,
In poortith I might mak a fen';
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I maunna marry Tam Glen?

There's Lowrie the laird o' Drumeller,

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Guid-day to you, brute!' he comes ben:
He brags and he blaws o' his siller,

But when will he dance like Tam Glen?
My minnie does constantly deave me,
And bids me beware o' young men;
They flatter, she says, to deceive me;
But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen?

107

My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him,
He'll gie me guid hunder marks ten:
But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,
O, wha will I get but Tam Glen?
Yestreen at the Valentines' dealing,
My heart to my mou gied a sten;
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written, Tam Glen.
The last Halloween I was waukin

My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken;
His likeness cam up the house staukin—
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!
Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie you my bonnie black hen,
Gif will advise me to marry

ye

The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

O MEIKLE.

TUNE-My Tocher's the Jewel.

O, MEIKLE thinks

my luve o' my beauty, And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin; But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie, My Tocher's the jewel has charms for him. It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree;

It's a' for the hiney he'll cherish the bee; My laddie's sae meikle in luve wi the siller, He canna hae luve to spare for me. Your proffer o' luve's an airl-penny, My Tocher's the bargain ye wad buy ; But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin,

Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try.

GANE IS THE DAY.

109

Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten wood,
Ye're like to the bark o' yon rotten tree,
Ye'll slip frae me like a knotless thread,
And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me.

GANE IS THE DAY.

TUNE-Guidwife, count the lawin.

GANE is the day, and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for faute o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And bluid-red wine's the risin sun.

CHORUS.

Then,guidwife,count the lawin,the lawin,the lawin, Then, guidwife, count the lawin, and bring a coggie mair.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple folk maun fecht and fen',
But here we're a' in ae accord,
For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.
Then, guidwife, count, &c.

My coggie is a haly pool,

That heals the wounds o' care and dool;

And pleasure is a wanton trout,

An'

ye drink it a' ye'll find him out.
Then, guidwife, count, &c.

WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE DO WI' AN AULD MAN?

TUNE-What can a lassie do.

WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,

What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man? Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!

Bad luck on the penny, &c.

He's always compleenin frae mornin to e'enin,
He hosts and he hirples the weary day lang :
He's doylt and he's dozin, his bluid it is frozen,
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!
He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,
I never can please him do a' that I can;
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows:
O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!
My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,

I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
I'll cross him,and rack him,until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan,

THE BONNIE WEE THING.

TUNE-The lads of Saltcoats.

BONNIE wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wast thou mine,

I wad wear thee in my bosom,

Lest my jewel I should tine.

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