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My sister Kate cam up the gate .

Wi' crowdie unto me, man;
She swore she saw some rebels run

Frae Perth unto Dundee, man:
Their left-hand general had nae skill,
The Angus lads had nae good will
That day their neebors' blood to spill;
For fear, by foes, that they should lose
Their cogs o' brose; all crying woes,

And so it goes you see, man.

They've lost some gallant gentlemen,

Amang the Highland clans, man: I fear my Lord Panmure is slain,

Or fallen in whiggish hands, man: Now wad ye sing this double fight, Some fell for wrang and some for right; But monie bade the world guid-night; Then ye may tell, how pell and mell, By red claymores, and muskets' knell, Wi' dying yell, the tories fell,

And whigs to hell did flee, man.

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How chang'd were then the lightsome hours,

When beat my heart sae rarely, 0,
When far frae Clutha's sylvan bowers,

Misfortune skelpt me sairly, 0.-
I sought the long embattled line,
Eager in glory's path to shine
But dool cam owre the hapless time

I yielded to the fairlie, O.
But sin' the dearest bliss o' man,

That wyles our way sae drearie, O,
The brawest lass in a' the lan',

Smiles on me kind an' cheerie, 0;
Contented wi' my peacefu' lot,
My sorrows now are a' forgot;
An' monie mae I wad bear fort,

If blest wi' thee, my dearie, o !

O woman, man's delight an' care!

The sweetest pride o' nature, 0,
Reposes on her bosom fair,

Sits smilin' on ilk feature, O!
Man may be bold, he may be strong,
May figure through life's chequer'd throng,
But still the Bard, in deathless song,

The chief o' warks will rate her, O!

I'LL AY CA' IN BY YON TOWN. I'll ay ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden green again ; I'll ay ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonnie Jean again. There's nane sall ken, there's nane sall guess,

What brings me back the gate again, But she, my fairest faithfu' lass,

And stowlins we sall meet again,

She'll wander by the aiken-tree,

When trystin-time draws near again; And when her lovely form I see,

O haith, she's doubly dear again! I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden green again; I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonnie Jean again,

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GREEN GROW THE RASHES.
Green grow the rashes, 0,

Green grow the rashes, 0;
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O. There's nought but care on every han',

In every hour that passes, O:
What signifies the life o' man,
An’twere na for the lasses, 0?

Green grow, $ca
The warly race may riches chase,

An' riches still may flee them, 0; And though at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.

Green grow, 8c.
Gie me a cannie hour at e'en,

My arms about my dearie, 0,
An' warly cares, an' warly men,
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O.

Green grow, &c. For you sae douse, wha sneer at this, .

Ye're nought but senseless asses, 0: The wisest man the warld e'er saw, He dearly loo'd the lasses, 0.

Green grow, fc.

Auld nature swears, the lovely dears

Her noblest work she classes, O:
Her 'prentice han' she try'd on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O.

Green grow, fc.

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THE DEIL CAM FIDDLING THRO' THE TOWN.
THE deil cam fiddling thro' the town,

And danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman;
And ilka wife cry'd, Auld Mahoun,
We wish you luck o' the prize, man.
We'll mak our maut, and brew our drink,

We'l dance, and sing, and rejoice man;
And monie thanks to the muckle black deil,

That danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman.

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* At a meeting of his brother Excisemen in Dumfries, BURNS being called upon for a song, handed these verses extempore to the President, written on the back of a letter.

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I hae gowd and gear, I hae land energh,
I hae sax gude, owsen ganging in a pleugh;
Ganging in a pleugh, and linkin o'er the lee,
And gin ye winna tak me, I can let ye be.
I hae a gude ha' house, a barn, and a byre;
A. peat-stack 'fore the door, will mak a rantin' fire;
We'll mak a rantin' fire, and merry sall we be,
And gin ye winna tak me, I can let ye be.
Jenny said to Jockey, gin ye winna tell,
Ye shall be the lad, I'll be the lass mysel';
Ye're a bonnie lad, and I'm a lassie free;
Ye're welcomer to tak me than to let me be.

AULD ROBIN GRAY. When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame, And a' the warld to sleep are gane; The waes of my heart fa' in show'rs frae my ee, When my gudeman lies sound by me. Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and he sought me for his

bride; But saving a crown, he had naething beside: To mak that crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to sea, And the crown and the pound were baith for me. He had nae been awa a week but only twa, When my mither she fell sick, and the cow was stown

awa; My father brake his arm, and my Jamie at the sea, And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me. My father coudna work, and my mither coudna spin; I toil'd day and night, but their bread I coudna win: Auld Robin maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his

ee, Said, Jenny, for their sakes, O marry me.

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