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Come to your bed, says Johny Faa,

Oh! come to your bed, my deary;

For I vow and swear by the hilt of my sword,
That your lord shall nae mair come near ye.

"I'll go to bed to my Johny Faa,

And I'll go to bed to my deary;

For I vow and swear by what past yestreén,

That lord shall nae mair come near me."

my

"I'll mak a hap to my Johny Faa,

And I'll mak a hap to my deary;

And he's get a' the coat gaes round,

And my lord shall nae mair come near me."

And when our lord came home at e'en,
And speir'd for his fair lady,

The tane she cry'd, and the other reply'd,
She's away wi' the gypsie laddie.

"Gae saddle to me the black, black steed,
Gae saddle and mak him ready;
Before that I either eat or sleep,
I'll gae seek my fair lady."

And we were fifteen well-made men,
Altho' we were nae bonny;

And we were a' put down for ane,
A fair young wanton lady.

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TO DAUNTON ME.

THE two following old stanzas to this tune have some merit:

To daunton me, to daunton me,

O ken ye what it is that'll daunton me?
There's eighty eight and eighty nine,
And a' that I hae borne sinsyne,

There's cess and press and Presbytrie,

I think it will do meikle for to daunton me.

But to wanton me, to wanton me,

O ken ye what it is that wad wanton me?—
To see gude corn upon the rigs,

And banishment amang the Whigs,

And right restored where right sud be,

I think it would do meikle for to wanton me.*

* A third verse runs thus:

But to wanton me, to wanton me,
O ken ye what maist wad wanton me?
To see king James at Edinb'rough Cross,
Wi' fifty thousand foot and horse,
And the usurper forc'd to flee,

O this is that maist wad wanton me.

THE BONIE LASS MADE THE BED TO ME.

"THE Bonie Lass made the Bed to me," was composed on an amour of Charles II. when sculking in the North, about Aberdeen, in the time of the usurpation. He formed une petite affaire with a daughter of the House of Port-letham, who was the lass that made the bed to him:-two verses of it

are,

I kiss'd her lips sae rosy red,

While the tear stood blinkin in her ee;

I said my lassie dinna cry,

For ye ay

shall mak the bed to me.

She took her mither's winding sheet,

And o't she made a sark to me;

Blythe and merry may she be,

The lass that made the bed to me.

When Januar wind was blawing cauld,
As to the North I took my way,
The mirksome night did me enfauld,
I knew na where to lodge till day.

By my gude luck a maid I met,
Just in the middle o' my care;
And kindly she did me invite
To walk into a chamber fair.

I bow'd fu' low unto this maid,
And thank'd her for her courtesie;
I bow'd fu' low unto this maid,
And bad her mak a bed for me.

She made the bed baith large and wide,
Wi' twa white hands she spread it down;
She put the cup to her rosy lips,
And drank "Young man now sleep ye

She snatch'd the candle in her hand,
And frae my chamber went wi' speed;
But I call'd her quickly back again
To lay some mair below head.

my

A cod* she laid below my head,
And served me wi' due respect;
And to salute her wi' a kiss,

I pat my arms about her neck.

sound."

Haud aff your hands, young man, she says,

And dinna sae uncivil be:

Gif ye hae ony luve for me,

O wrang nae my virginitie!

* A pillow.

Her hair was like the links o' gowd,
Her teeth were like the ivorie;
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me.

Her bosom was the driven snaw,
Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see!
Her limbs the polish'd marble stane,
The lass that made the bed to me.

I kiss'd her o'er and o'er again,
And she wist na what to say;
ay
I laid her between me and the wa',
The lassie thought na lang till day.

Upon the morrow when we raise,
I thank'd her for her courtesie;
But ay she blush'd, and ay she sigh'd,
And said, alas! ye've ruin'd me.

I clasp'd her waist, and kiss'd her syne,
While the tear stood twinklin in her ee;
I said, my lassie, dinna cry,

For ye ay
shall mak the bed to me.

She took her mither's holland sheets,
And made them a' in sarks to me:
Blythe and merry may she be,

The lass that made the bed to me.

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