WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE, ETC.
Then guidwife count the lawin,' the lawin, the lawin, Then guidwife count the lawin, and bring a coggie mair,
There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple-folk maun fecht and fen',
But here we're a' in ae accord,
For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.
Then guidwife count, &c.
My coggie is a haly pool,"
That heals the wounds o' care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,
drink it a' ye'll find him out. Then guidwife count, &c.
WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE DO WI' AN AULD
TUNE "WHAT CAN A LASSIE DO."
WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?
Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie
To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!
Bad luck on the penny, &c.
He's always compleenin frae mornin to e'enin,
He hosts and he hirples3 the weary day lang:
He's doylt and he's dōzin, his bluid it is frozen,
O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!
He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,
I never can please him do a' that I can;
He's peevish, and jealous of a' the young fellows;
O, dool' on the day I met wi' an auld man!
My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,
I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
I'll cross him, and rack him, until I heart-break hin,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.
Coughs and hobbles.
6 Sorrow.
O, FOR ANE-AND-TWENTY, TAM!
TUNE-"THE MOUDIEWORT."
AN' O for ane-and-twenty, Tam!
An' hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam!
I'll learn my kin a rattlin sang,
An' I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.
They snool' me sair, and haud me down,
And gar me look like bluntie,' Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun',
And then comes ane-and-twenty, Tam.
An' O for ane, &c.
A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,
Was left me by my auntie, Tam;
At kith or kin I need na spier,
An' I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam,
An' O for ane, &c.
They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,*
Tho' I mysel' hae plenty, Tam;
But hear'st thou, laddie, there's my loof,'-
I'm thine at ane-and-twenty, Tam!
An' O for ane, &c.
THE BONNIE WEE THING.
TUNE "THE LADS OF SALTCOATS."
BONNIE wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wast thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine.
Wistfully I look and languish
In that bonnie face of thine;
And my heart it stounds" wi' anguish,
Lest my wee thing be na mine.
Wit, and grace, and love, and beauty,
In ae constellation shine;
To adore thee is my duty,
Goddess o' this soul o' mine!
Bonnie wee, &c.
9 A portion of ground.
Throbs.
BESSY AND HER SPINNIN WHEEL.
TUNE-" ROBIE DONNA GORACH."
THE Thames flows proudly to the sea,
Where royal cities stately stand;
But sweeter flows the Nith to me,
Where Cummins ance had high command;
When shall I see that honour'd land,
That winding stream I loved so dear,
Must wayward fortune's adverse hand,
For ever, ever keep me here?
How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales,
Where spreading hawthorns gaily bloom;
How sweetly wind thy sloping dales,
Where lambkins wanton thro' the broom!
Tho' wandering, now, must be my doom,
Far from thy bonnie banks and braes,
May there my latest hour consume,
Amang the friends of early days!
BESSY AND HER SPINNIN WHEEL.
O LEEZE1 me on my spinnin wheel,
O leeze me on my rock and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,'
And haps me fiel' and warm at e'en!
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, and milk, and meal-
O leeze me on my spinnin wheel.
On ilka hand the burnies trot,
And meet below my theekitR cot;
The scented birk and hawthorn white
Across the pool their arms unite,
Alike to screen the birdie's nest,
And little fishes caller" rest:
The sun blinks kindly in the biel','
Where blithe I turn my spinnin wheel.
1 A phrase of endearment: "I am proud of thee."
That abundantly clothes me. • Thatched.
On lofty aiks' the cushats wail,
And echo cons the doolfu' tale;
The lintwhites in the hazel braes,
Delighted, rival ither's lays:
The craik amang the claver hay,
The paitrick whirrin o'er the ley,
The swallow jinkin' round my shiel,"
Amuse me at my spinnin wheel.
Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,
Aboon distress, below envy,
O wha wad leave this humble state,
For a' the pride of a' the great?
Amid their flarin, idle toys,
Amid their cumbrous, dinsome joys,
Can they the peace and pleasure feel
Of Bessy at her spinnin wheel?
COUNTRY LASSIE.
TUNE-" JOHN, COME KISS ME NOW."
IN simmer, when the hay was mawn,
And corn wav'd green in ilka field,
While claver blooms white o'er the lea,
And roses blaw in ilka bield;"
Blithe Bessie in the milking shiel,
Says, "I'll be wed, come o't what will;"
Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild,—
"O' guid advisement comes nae ill:
"It's ye hae wooers monie ane,
And, lassie, ye're but young, ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale'
A routhie but, a routhie ben:
There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre;"
Tak this frae me, my bonnie hen,
It's plenty beets the luver's fire."
"For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen
I dinna care a single flie;
He lo'es sae weel his craps and kye,"
He has nae luve to spare for me,
2 The corn-rail.
3 Partridge.
• Shed.
6 Sunny nook of a wood.
8 A plentiful kitchen and parlour. Sheep-pen. 10 Adds fuel to fire. if Crops and cows.
But blithe's the blink o' Robie's e'e,
And weel I wat he lo'es me dear:
Ae blink o' him I wad na gie
For Buskie-glen and a' his gear."
"O thoughtless lassie, life's a faught;"
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But aye fu' han't is fechtin' best,
An hungry care's an unco care:
But some will spend, and some will spare,
An' wilfu' folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill."
"O, gear will buy me rigs o' land,
And gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o' leesome1 luve
The gowd and siller canna buy:
We may be poor-Robie and I,-
Light is the burden luve lays on;
Content and luve brings peace and joy,
What mair hae queens upon a throne?"
Canst thou break his faithfu' heart?
Turn again, thou fair Eliza;
If to love thy heart denies,
For pity hide the cruel sentence
Under friendship's kind disguise!
Thee, dear maid, hae I offended?
The offence is loving thee;
Canst thou wreck his peace for ever,
Wha for thine wad gladly die?
While the life beats in my bosom,
Thou shalt mix in ilka throe:
Turn again, thou lovely maiden,
Ae sweet smile on me bestow.
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