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NANCY'S GHOST.

This song is by Dr. Blacklock.

TIBBIE, I HAE SEEN THE DAY.

This song I composed about the age of seventeen.

Tune-INVERCALD'S REEL.

O Tibbie, I hae seen the day
Ye wadna been sae shy;
For laik o gear ye lightly me,

But trowth, I care na by.

Yestreen I met you on the moor,
Ye spak na, but gaed by like stoure;
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,

,
But feint a hair care I.

Tibbie, I hae, &c.

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye hae the name o'clink,
That ye can please me at a wink,
Whene'er

ye
Tibbie, I hae, &c.

like to try.

But sorrow tak him that's sae mean,
Altho' his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows ony saucy quean
That looks sae proud and high.

Tibbie, I hae, &c.

Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head anither airt,
An' answer him fu' dry.

Tibbie, I hae, &c.

But if he hae the name o'

gear, Ye'll fasten to him like a brier, Tho' hardly he for sense or lear Be better than the kye.

Tibbie, I hae, &c.

But, Tibbie, lass, tak my advice, Your daddie's gear maks you sae pice, The deil a ane wad speir your price, Were ye as poor as I.

Tibbie, 1 hae, &c.

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COLLIER LADDIE.

I do not know a blyther old song than this.

Whare live ye, my bonie lass,

And tell me what they ca' ye?
My name, she says, is Mistress Jean,

And I follow the Collier laddie.

See ye not yon

hills and dales The sun shines on sae brawlie! They a' are mine and they shall be thine,

Gin ye'll leave your Collier laddie,

Ye shall gang in gay attire,

Weel buskit up sae gawdy ;
And ane to wait on every hand

Gin ye'll leave your Collier laddie.

Tho'

ye

had a' the sun shines on, And the earth conceals sae lowly; I wad turn my back on you and it a',

And embrace my Collier laddie.

I can win my five-pennies in a day,

And spen't at night fu' brawlie:
And make my bed in the Collier's neuk,

And lie down wi' my Collier laddie.

Loove for loove is the bargain for me,

Tho' the wee cot-house should haud me,
And the warld before me to win my bread,

And fair fa' my Collier laddie.

YE GODS, WAS STREPHON'S PICTURE BLEST?

Tune-FOURTEENTH OF OCTOBER.

THE title of this air shews that it alludes to the famous king Crispian, the patron of the honorable corporation of Shoemakers.-St. Crispian's day falls on the fourteenth of October, old style, as the old proverb tells;

On the fourteenth of October
Was ne'er a sutor* sober.

SINCE ROBB'D OF ALL THAT CHARM'D MY

VIEWS.

THE old name of this air is, The blossom o' the Raspberry. The song is Dr. Blacklock's.

• A shoemaker.

MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN.

I COMPOSED these verses out of compliment to a Mrs. M'Lachlan, whose husband is an officer in the East Indies.

Tune-DRUMION DUBH.

Musing on the roaring ocean,
Which divides

my

love and me; Wearying heaven in warm devotion,

For his weal where'er he be.

Hope and fear's alternate billow

Yielding late to nature's law,
Whisp'ring spirits round my pillow,

Talk of him that's far awa.

Ye whom sorrow never wounded,

Ye who never shed a tear,
Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,

Gaudy day to you is dear.

Gentle night, do thou befriend me,

Downy sleep the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,

Talk of him that's far awa!

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