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And a' the day to sit in dool,
And naebody to see me.

Ca' the ewes, &c.

Ye sall get gowns and ribbons meet,

Cauf-leather shoon upon your feet,
And in my arms ye’se lie and sleep,
And ye sall be my dearie.

Cathe ewes, &c.

If ye'll but stand to what ye've said,

I’se gang wi' you my shepherd-lad,
And ye may rowe me in your plaid,
And I sall be


dearie. Cathe ewes, &c.

While waters wimple to the sea ;

While day blinks in the lift sae hie; 'Till clay-cauld death sall blin my e'e, Ye sall be my dearie.*

Ca the ewes, &c.

* Mrs. Burns informed the Editor that the last verse of this song was written by Burns.


THESE words are mine.

Louis, what reck I by thee,

Or Geordie on his ocean:
Dyvor, beggar louns to me-

I reign in Jeanie's bosom!

Let her crown my love her law,

And in her breast enthrone me;
Kings and nations, swith, awa!

Reif randies I disown ye!


THE starting verse should be restored:

Lady Mary Ann gaed out o' her bower,

An' she found a bonnie rose new i' the flower; As she kiss'd its ruddy lips drapping wi' dew,

Quoʻshe, ye’re nae sae sweet as my Charlie's mou."


O LADY MARY Ann looks o'er the castle wa',
She saw three bonnie boys playing at the ba',
The youngest he was the flower amang them a';

My bonnie laddie's young, but he's growin' yet.

“O father, O father, an' ye think it fit,
We'll send him a year to the college yet;
We'll sew a green ribbon round about his hat,

And that will let them ken he's to marry yet.”

Lady Mary Ann was a flower in the dew,
Sweet was its smell, and bonnie was its hue,
And the langer it blossomed, the sweeter it grew;

For the lily in the bud will be bonnier yet.

Young Charlie Cochran was the sprout of an aik,
Bonnie, and blooming, and straight was its make,
The sun took delight to shine for its sake,

And it will be the brag o’ the forest yet.

The simmer is gane, when the leaves they were green;
And the days are awa that we hae seen;
But far better days, I trust, will come again,

For my bonnie laddie's young, but he's growin' yet.


This air is Masterton's; the song mine. The occasion of it was this:-Mr. Wm. Nicol, of the High School, Edinburgh, during the autumn vacation, being at Moffat, honest Allan, who was at that time on a visit to Dalswinton, and I went to pay Nicol a visit.-We had such a joyous meeting, that Mr. Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, that we should celebrate the business.

O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,

And Rob and Allan cam to see;
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,

Ye wad na find in Christendie.

We are na fou, we're na that four,

But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,


we'll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met, three merry boys,

Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mae we hope to be!

We are na fou, &c.

It is the moon, I ken her horn,

That's blinkin in the lift sae hie;. ,
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But by my sooth she'll wait a wee!

We are na fou, &c.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa',

A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha last beside his chair shall fa',
He is the king amang us three !

We are na fou, &c.*

* “ Willie, who "brewd a peck o' maut,' was Mr. William Nicol; and Rob and Allan were our Poet and his friend Allan Masterton. This meeting took place at LAGGAN, a farm purchased by Mr. Nicol, in Nithsdale, on the recommendation of Burns. These three honest fellows—all men of uncommon talents, are now all under the turf. (1799).”

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