THE DE'IL'S AWA' WI' THE EXCISEMAN.
THE De'il cam fiddling thro' the town,
And danced awa wi' the Exciseman;
And ilka wife cried 'Auld Mahoun,
We wish you luck o' your prize, man.'
We'll mak our maut, and brew our drink,
We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony thanks to the muckle black De'il
That danced awa wi' the Exciseman.
There's threesome reels, and foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e'er cam to our lan',
Was-the De'il's awa wi' the Exciseman.
THERE was a bonnie lass, and a bonnie, bonnie lass, And she lo'ed her bonnie laddie dear;
Till war's loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms, Wi' mony a sigh and tear.
Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar,
He still was a stranger to fear:
And nocht could him quell, or his bosom assail,
But the bonnie lass he lo'ed sae dear.
RATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLIE.
O RATTLIN', roarin' Willie,
O, he held to the fair,
An' for to sell his fiddle,
An' buy some other ware;
But parting wi' his fiddle,
The saut tear blin't his ee;
And rattlin', roarin' Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me!
O Willie, come sell your fiddle,
O sell your fiddle sae fine;
O Willie, come sell your
And buy a pint o' wine!
If I should sell my fiddle,
The warl' would think I was mad;
For mony a rantin' day
My fiddle and I hae had.
As I cam by Crochallan,
I cannily keekit ben-
Rattlin', roarin' Willie
Was sitting at yon board en';
Sitting at yon board en',
And amang guid companie ;
Rattlin', roarin' Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me!
LANDLADY, COUNT THE LAWIN.
LANDLADY, Count the lawin,
The day is near the dawin;
Ye're a blind drunk, boys,
And I'm but jolly fou.
Hey tutti, taiti,
How tutti, taiti-
Wha's fou now?
Cog, an' ye were aye fou,
Cog, an' ye were aye fou,
I wad sit and sing to you
If ye were aye fou.
Weel may ye a' be!
Ill may we never see!
God bless the King, boys,
And the companie!
Hey tutti, taiti,
How tutti, taiti
Wha's fou now?
MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET.
My love she's but a lassie yet;
My love she's but a lassie yet;
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O,
I rue the day I sought her, O;
Wha gets her needs na say she's woo'd,
But he may say he's bought her, O!
Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never miss'd it yet.
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't,
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,
An' could na preach for thinkin' o't.
DOES HAUGHTY GAUL.
DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat?
Then let the loons beware, Sir,
There's wooden walls upon our seas.
And volunteers on shore, Sir.
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,
And Criffel sink in Solway,
Ere we permit a foreign foe
On British ground to rally!
O let us not like snarling tykes
In wrangling be divided,
Till, slap! come in an unco loon
And wi' a rung decide it.
Be Britain still to Britain true,
Amang oursels united;
For never but by British hands
Maun British wrangs be righted!
The kettle o' the kirk and state,
Perhaps a clout may fail in't ;
But deil a foreign tinkler loon
Shall ever ca' a nail in't.
Our father's blude the kettle bought,
An' wha wad dare to spoil it?
By heavens! the sacrilegious dog
Shall fuel be to boil it!
The wretch that would a tyrant own,
And the wretch, his true-born brother,
Who'd set the mob aboon the throne, -
May they be damned together!
Who will not sing God save the King!
Shall hang as high's the steeple;
But while we sing God save the King!
We'll not forget the people!
THE day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet;
Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,
Ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o'er the sultry line e;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more, it made thee mine!
While day and night can bring delight,
Or nature aught of pleasure give;
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee, and thee alone, I live!
When that grim foe of life below
Comes in between to make us part;
The iron hand that breaks our band,
It breaks my bliss-it breaks my heart!
O MAY, THY MORN.
O MAY, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet,
As the mirk night o' December;
For sparkling was the rosy wine,
And private was the chamber;
And dear was she I dare na name,
But I will aye remember.
And here's to them, that, like oursel,
Can push about the jorum!
And here's to them that wish us weel,
May a' that's guid watch o'er them!
And here's to them we dare na tell,
The dearest o' the quorum!
THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE
COMES HAME.
By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,
I heard a man sing, tho' his head it was grey:
And as he was singing, the tears down came-
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
The church is in ruins, the state is in jars,
Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars;
We dare na weel say't, but we ken wha's to blame--
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.
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