TARRY WOO'.

Tarry woo', tarry woo',

Tarry woo' is ill to spin

Card it well, card it well,

Card it well ere ye begin.

When 'tis carded, row'd, and spun,
Then the work is haflens done;
But when woven, dress'd, and clean,
It may be cleeding for a queen.

Sing, my bonny harmless sheep,
That feed upon the mountains steep,
Bleating sweetly as ye go

Through the winter's frost and snow;
Hart, and hind, and fallow-deer,

Are na half so useful here;

Frae kings to him that hauds the plow,

All are oblig'd to tarry woo'.

Up ye shepherds, dance and skip, O'er the hills and valleys trip,

Sing up the praise of tarry woo,

Sing the flocks that bear it too:

Harmless creatures without blame,

That cleed the back and cram the wame,

Keep us warm and hearty fou;

Leese me on the tarry woo'.

How happy is a shepherd's life,
Far frae courts and free of strife,
While the gimmers bleat and bae,
And the lambkins answer mae:
No such music to his ear;

Of thief or fox he has no fear;
Sturdy kent, and colly too,
Well defend the tarry woo'.

He lives content, and envies none,
Not even a monarch on his throne ;
Though he the royal sceptre sways,
He has not sweeter holidays.
Who'd be a king, can ony tell,
When a shepherd sings sae well;
Sings sae well, and pays his due,

With honest heart and tarry woo'?

Though only a portion here and there of this song is older than the days of Allan Ramsay, it is worthy of a place among our very early lyrics. Relishing of pastoral times and rustic industry, it mingles the counsels of ancient experience with the charms of verse. Some of the earlier versions were more decided in the praise and preference of Tarry woo'.

Tarry woo' is ill to spin;
Card it weel ere ye begin,
Card it weel and draw't sma-
Tarry woo's the best of a'.

This old assurance of the excellence of the tarred fleece has been disputed lately, and it has been urged that the use of tar, while it lessons the value of the fleece, is injurious to the flock. On the other hand, it is contended that some sort of surgery is necessary to preserve the flock from vermin and to nourish the wool. Of old, Dumfries was famous for making a certain kind of woollen cloth, called "Whytes," which was esteemed a luxury by merchants of foreign countries. It would be worth while to inquire if this cloth was produced from the white or the tawny fleece. A mason lodge in Lockerby is called " Quhyte woolen lodge ;" and there are other places which preserve the memory of this beautiful manufacture. This song first appeared in Allan Ramsay's collection.

SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY.

Saw ye nae my Peggy,

Saw ye nae my Peggy,

Saw ye nae my Peggy,
Coming o'er the lea?
Sure a finer creature

Ne'er was form'd by nature,
So complete each feature,

So divine is she.

O how Peggy charms me;
Every look still warms me;
Every thought alarms me,

Lest she love nae me.
Peggy doth discover

Nought but charms all over

Nature bids one love her,

That's a law to me.

Who would cease the lover,

To become a rover?

No! I'll ne'er give over,

Till I happy be.

For since love inspires me,
As her beauty fires me,
And her absence tires me,
Nought can please but she.

When I hope to gain her,
Fate seems to detain her;
Could I but obtain her,
Happy would I be !
I'll lie down before her,
Bless, sigh, and adore her,

With faint looks implore her,
Till she pity me.

If Allan Ramsay knew this song, he has sinned sadly against taste in omitting it in his collection, and deeper still in excluding it for the sake of his own verses to

the same air.

That he was acquainted with the whole there can be little doubt. Compare the second verse with the same verse in Ramsay

or a part of it

These lines also prove Ramsay's acquaintance with some very old and very free verses which have been long known, though seldom sung among our peasantry.