Spare my love, thou feath'ry fnaw,
Drifting o'er the frozen plain.

When the shades of evening creep
O'er the day's fair, gladfome e'e,
Sound and fafely may he sleep,
Sweetly blythe his waukening be.
He will think on her he loves,
Fondly he'll repeat her name;
For whare'er he diftant roves,
Jockey's heart is ftill at hame.

CAULD IS THE E’ENIN BLAST.

C

AULD is the e'enin blaft

O' Boreas o'er the pool,

And dawin it is dreary,

When birks are bare at Yule.

O cauld blaws the e'enin blaft

When bitter bites the froft,

And in the mirk and dreary drift
The hills and glens are loft.

Ne'er fae murky blew the night

That drifted o'er the hill, But bonie Peg-a-Ramfey

Gat grift to her mill.

THERE WAS A BONIE LASS.

HERE was a bonie lafs,

TH

And a bonie, bonie lass,

And the lo'ed her bonie laddie dear;

Till war's loud alarms

Tore her laddie frae her arms,

Wi' monie a figh and a tear.

Over fea, over shore,

Where the cannons loudly roar;

He still was a stranger to fear:
And nocht could him quail,

Or his bofom affail,

But the bonie lafs he lo'ed fae dear.

E e

THERE'S NEWS, LASSES, NEWS.

T

HERE'S news, laffes, news,

Gude news I've to tell,

There's a boatfu' o' lads

Come to our town to fell.

CHORUS.

The wean wants a cradle, .
An' the cradle wants a cod,
An' I'll no gang to my bed
Until I get a nod.

Father, quo' fhe, Mither, quo' fhe,

Do what ye can,

I'll no gang to my bed

Till I get a man.

The wean, &c.

I hae as gude a craft rig

As made o' yird and stane; And waly fa' the ley-crap For I maun till'd again.

The wean, &c.

O THAT I HAD NE'ER BEEN

MARRIED.

CORRECTED BY R. BURNS.

THAT I had ne'er been married,
I wad never had nae care,

Now I've gotten wife and bairns,
An' they cry crowdie ever mair.

CHORUS.

Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,

Three times crowdie in a day;

Gin ye

crowdie ony mair,

Ye'll crowdie a' my meal away.

ADDED BY BURNS.

Waefu' Want and Hunger fley me,

Glowrin by the hallan en';

Sair I fecht them at the door,

But

ay I'm eerie they come ben.

Ance crowdie, &c. .

O MALLY'S MEEK, MALLY'S SWEET.

CHORUS.

O Mally's meek, Mally's fweet,
Mally's modeft and difcreet,

Mally's rare, Mally's fair,
Mally's ev'ry way compleat.

A

S I was walking up the street,

A barefit maid I chanc'd to meet,

But O the road was very hard,

For that fair maiden's tender feet.

It were mair meet, that those fine feet up in filken fhoon,

Were weel lac'd

And twere more fit that she should fit,

Within yon chariot gilt aboon.

Mally's meek, &c.

Her yellow hair, beyond compare,

Comes trinkling down her swan-white neck,

And her two eyes like ftars in skies,

Would keep a finking fhip frae wreck.

Mally's meek, &c.