THE BLUDE RED ROSE AT YULE MAY BLAW.
THE blude red rose at Yule may blaw,
The simmer lilies bloom in snaw,
The frost may freeze the deepest sea;
But an auld man shall never daunton me.
To daunton me, and me sae young,
Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue,
That is the thing you ne'er shall see;
For an auld man shall never daunton me.
For a' his meal and a' his maut,
For a' his fresh beef and his saut,
For a' his gold and white monie,
An auld man shall never daunton me.
His gear may buy him kye and yowes,
His gear may buy him glens and knowes;
But me he shall not buy nor fee,
For an auld man shall never daunton me.
He hirples twa fauld as he dow,
Wi' his teethless gab and his auld beld pow,
And the rain rains down frae his red bleer'd ee-
That auld man shall never daunton me.
To daunton me, and me sae young,
Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue,
That is the thing you ne'er shall see;
For an auld man shall never daunton me.
THE bonniest lad that e'er I saw,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
Wore a plaid and was fu' braw,
Bonnie Highland laddie.
On his head a bonnet blue,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, His royal heart was firm and true, Bonnie Highland laddie.
Trumpets sound and cannons roar,
Bonnie lassie, Lawland lassie,
And a' the hills wi' echoes roar,
Bonnie Lawland lassie.
Glory, Honour, now invite,
Bonnie lassie, Lawland lassie,
For Freedom and my King to fight,
Bonnie Lawland lassie.
The sun a backward course shall take,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
Ere aught thy manly courage shake,
Bonnie Highland laddie.
Go, for yoursel procure renown,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
And for your lawful King his crown,
Bonnie Highland laddie!
THE Cooper o' Cuddie cam here awa,
And ca'd the girrs out owre us a'-
And our gude-wife has gotten a ca'
That anger'd the silly gude-man, O.
We'll hide the cooper behind the door,
Behind the door, behind the door;
We'll hide the cooper behind the door,
And cover him under a mawn, O.
He sought them out, he sought them in,
Wi', Deil hae her! and, Deil hae him!
But the body he was sae doited and blin',
He wist na where he was gaun, O.
They cooper'd at e'en, they cooper'd at morn,
Till our gude-man has gotten the scorn;
On ilka brow she's planted a horn,
And swears that they shall stan', O.
THE HIGHLAND WIDOW'S LAMENT.
OH! I am come to the low countrie,
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Without a penny in my purse,
To buy a meal to me.
It was nae sae in the Highland hills,
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Nae woman in the country wide
Sae happy was as me.
For then I had a score o' kye,
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Feeding on yon hills so high,
And giving milk to me.
And there I had three score o' yowes,
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Skipping on yon bonnie knowes,
And casting woo' to me.
I was the happiest of the clan,
Sair, sair may I repine;
For Donald was the brawest lad,
And Donald he was mine.
Till Charlie Stewart cam at last,
Sae far to set us free;
My Donald's arm was wanted then,
For Scotland and for me.
Their waefu' fate what need I tell,
Right to the wrang did yield :
My Donald and his country fell
Upon Culloden field.
Oh! I am come to the low countrie,
Och-on, och-on, och-rie!
Nae woman in the world wide
Sae wretched now as me.
THE weary pund, the weary pund,
The weary pund o' tow;
I think my wife will end her life
Before she spin her tow.
I bought my wife a stane o' lint
As gude as e'er did grow;
And a' that she has made o' that,
Is ae poor pund o' tow.
There sat a bottle in a bole,
Beyond the ingle lowe,
And aye she took the tither souk
To drouk the stowrie tow.
Quoth I, For shame, ye dirty dame,
Gae spin your tap o' tow!
She took the rock, and wi' a knock
She brak it o'er my pow.
At last her feet-I sang to see't-
Gaed foremost o'er the knowe;
And or I wad anither jad,
I'll wallop in a tow.
THE ploughman he's a bonnie lad,
His mind is ever true, jo,
His garters knit below his knee,
His bonnet it is blue, jo.
Then up wi't a', my ploughman lad,
And hey, my merry ploughman ;
Of a' the trades that I do ken,
Commend me to the ploughman.
My ploughman he comes hame at e'en,
He's aften wat and weary;
Cast off the wat, put on the dry,
And gae to bed, my Dearie!
I will wash my ploughman's hose,
And I will dress his o'erlay ;
I will mak my ploughman's bed.
And cheer him late and early.
I hae been east, I hae been west,
I hae been at Saint Johnston;
The bonniest sight that e'er I saw
Was the ploughman laddie dancin'.
Snaw-white stockin's on his legs,
And siller buckles glancin';
A gude blue bonnet on his head,
And O, but he was handsome!
Commend me to the barn-yard,
And the corn-mow, man ;
I never gat my coggie fou
Till I met wi' the ploughman.
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