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What a happy nation this will be,
And we'll visit Cope in the morning.

'Tis Cope, are you waking yet?
Or are you sleeping? I would wit;
"Tis a wonder to me when your

drums beat, It does not waken you in the morning.

The Highland men came down the loan,
With sword and target in their hand,
They took the dawning by the end,
And they visited Cope in the morning.

For all their bombs, and bomb-granades,
'Twas when they saw the Highland-lads,
They ran to the hills as if they were calves,
And scour'd off early in the morning.

For all your bombs, and your bomb-shells, 'Tis when they saw the Highland-lads, They ran to the hills like frighted wolves, All pursued by the clans in the morning.

The Highland knaves, with loud huzzas,
Cries, Cope, are you quite awa?
Bide a little, and shake a pa,
And we'll give you a merry morning,

Cope went along unto Haddington,
They ask'd him where was all his men;
The pox on me if I do ken,
For I left them all this morning. *




Coup sent a challenge frae Dunbar,
Charlie, meet me an ye dare,
And I'll learn you the art of war,
If you'll meet wi' me in the morning.

Hey Johny Coup, are ye waking yet?
Or are your drums a beating yet?
If ye were waking I wou'd wait
To gang to the coals i’ the morning.

When Charlie look'd the letter upon,
He drew his sword the scabbard from,
Come follow me, my merry merry men,
And we'll meet Jonnie Coup i’ the morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup are ye waking yet, &c.

Now, Jonnie, be as good as your word,
Come let us try both fire and sword,
And dinna rin awa' like a frighted bird,
That's chas'd frae it's nest in the morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup, &c,






This air is by Marshall; the song I composed out of compliment to Mrs. Burns.

N. B. It was during the honey-moon.

When Jonnie Coup he heard of this,
He thought it wadpa be, amiss
To hae a horse in readiness,
To flie awa' i' the morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup, &c.

Fy now Jonnie get up and rin,
The Highland bagpipes makes a din,
It's best to sleep in a hale skin,
For 'twill be a bluddie morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup, &c.
When Jonnie Coup to Dunbar came,
They speard at him, where's a' your men,
The deil confound me gin I ken,
For I left them a' i' the morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup, &c.
Now, Jonnie, trouth ye was na blate,
To come withe news o' your ain defeat,
And leave your men in sic a strait,
So early in the morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup, &c.



Of a' the airts* the wind can blaw,

I dearly like the west,
For there the bonie lassie lives,

The lassie I lo'e best :
There's wild woods grow, and rivers row,

And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi



I see her in the dewy flowers,

I see her sweet and fair ;

Ah! faith, co' Jonie, I got a fleg,
With their claymores and philabegs,
If I face them again, deil break my legs,
So I wish you a good morning.

Hey Jonnie Coup, &c. In Johnson's “ Scots Musical Museum," Edin. 1787, &c. is a copy differing very much from both, One would wish to know the original, which, perhaps, is now impossible.

* Quarters of the heaven. What airt's the wind in? signifies, What point does the wind blow from?

I hear her in the tunefu' birds,

I hear her charm the air :

There's not a bony flower that springs,

By fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bony bird that sings
But minds me o'




THE song is by Dr. Blacklock; I believe, but am not quite certain, that the air is his too.


This is one of those fine Gaelic tunes, preserved from time immemorial in the Hebrides; they seem to be the ground-work of many of our finest Scots pastoral tunes. The words of this song were written to commemorate the unfortunate expedition of General Burgoyne in America, in 1777.*

• This song is by Hector M‘Neil, Esq.

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