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But I foor up the glen at een,

To see my bonie lassie;
And lang before the gray morn cam,

She was na hauf sae saucie.

O weary fa' the waukrife cock,

And the foumart lay his crawin!
He wauken'd the auld wife frae her sleep,

A wee blink or the dawin.

An angry wife I wat she raise,

And o'er the bed she brought her;
And wi' a mickle hazle rung

She made her a weel pay'd dochter.

O fare thee weel, my bonie lass!

O fare thee weel, my hinnie !
Thou art a gay and a bonie lass,

But thou hast a waukrife minnie.*

* The peasantry have a verse superior to some of those recovered by Burns, which is worthy of notice. Ed.

O though thy hair was gowden weft,

An' thy lips o’ drapping hinnie,
Thou hast gotten the clog that winna cling

For a' you're waukrife minnie."

TULLOCHGORUM.

This, first of songs, is the master-piece of my old friend Skinner. He was passing the day at the town of Ellon, I think it was, in a friend's house whose name was Montgomery.-Mrs. Montgomery observing, en passant, that the beautiful reel of Tullochgorum wanted words, she begged them of Mr. Skinner, who gratified her wishes, and the wishes of every lover of Scottish song, in this most excellent ballad.

These particulars I had from the author's son, Bishop Skinner, at Aberdeen.

Come gie's a sang, Montgomery cry'd,
And lay your disputes all aside,
What signifies't for folks to chide

For what was done before them;
Let Whig and Tory all agree,

Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory,
Whig and Tory all agree,

To drop their Whig-mig-morum. *

* Whig-mig-morum occurs în Habbie Simpson's epitaph

“ Sa weill's he keipit bis dec im,
And all the stotis of Quhip Meg Morum."

Stotis

Let Whig and Tory all agree
To spend the night wi' mirth and glee,
And cheerful sing alang wi' me,

The Reel o' Tullochgorum.

0, Tullochgorum's my delight,
It gars us a' in ane unite,
And ony sumph that keeps up spite,

In conscience I abhor him :
For blythe and cheerie we'll be a',

Blythe and cheerie, blythe and cheerie,
Blythe and cheerie we'll be a',

And make a happy quorum,
For blythe and cheerie we'll be a',
As lang as we hae breath to draw,
And dance till we be like to fa'

The Reel o’Tullochgorum.
What needs there be sae great a fraíse,
Wi' dringing dull Italian lays,
I wadna gie our ain Strathspeys

For half a hunder score o' them.
They're dowf and dowie at the best,

Dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie,
Dowf and dowie at the best,

Wi' a' their variorum;

Stotis means notes of inusic. Quhip meg-morum, the name of an old air; therefore the sense is, Notes of Whip-meg-morum

They're dowf and dowie at the best,
Their allegros and a' the rest,
They canna' please a Scottish taste,

Compar'd wi’ Tullochgorum.
Let warldly worms their minds oppress
Wi' fears o' want and double cess,
And sullen sots themsells distress

Wi' keeping up decorum :
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,

Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,
Sour and sulky shall we sit

Like old philosophorum !
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,
Nor'ever try to shake a fit

To the Reel o' Tullochgorum?

May choicest blessings ay attend
Each honest, open-hearted friend,
And calm and quiet be his end,

And a' that's good watch o'er him; May peace and plenty be his lot,

Peace and plenty, peace and plenty,
Peace and plenty be his lot,

And dainties a great store o' them;
May peace and plenty be his lot,
Unstain’d by any vicious spot,

And may he never want a groat,

That's fond o' Tullochgorum !

But for the sullen frumpish fool,
That loves to be oppression's tool,
May envy gnaw his rotten soul,

And discontent devour him;
May dool and sorrow be his chance,

Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow,
Dool and sorrow be his chance,

And nane say, wae's me for him!
May dool and sorrow be his chance,
Wi' a'the ills that come frae France,
Wha e'er he be that winna dance

The Reel o' Tullochgorum.

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