If I wasna ettled to be ony better,

Then what gars me wish ony better to be? I'm just like a lammie that loses its mither ;

Nae mither or friend the puir lammie can see; I fear I hae tint my puir heart a'thegither,

Nae wonder the tear fa's sae fast frae my ee.

Wi' the rest o' my claes I hae row'd up

the ribbon, The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie gae me; Yestreen, when he gae me't, and saw I was sabbin',

I'll never forget the wae blink o' his ee. Though now he said naething but Fare ye weel, Lucy!

It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see: He could nae say mair but just, Fare ye weel, Lucy!

Yet that I will mind till the day that I dee.

The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when its droukit;

The bare likes the brake and the braird on the lea: But Lucy likes Jamie ;-she turn'd and she lookit,

She thocht the dear place she wad never mair see. Ah, weel may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless !

And weel may he greet on the bank o' the burn! For bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle and peerless,

Lies cauld in her grave, and will never return !

THE JOLLIE BEGGAR.

SUPPOSED TO BE BY KING JAMES V.

TUNE—The jollie beggar. There was a jollie beggar, and a beggin' he was boun', And he took up his quarters into a landwart toun. And we'll gang nae mair a-rovin', a-rovin' in the

nicht,
And we'll gang nae mair a-rovin', boys, let the moon

shine ne'er sae bricht:
And we'll gang nae mair a-rovin’.

He wad neither lie in barn, nor yet wad he in byre,
But in ahint the ha' door, or else afore the fire.

The beggar's bed was made at e'en wi' gude clean strae

and hay, And in ahint the ba’ door, and there the beggar lay.

Up rose the gude man’s dochter, and for to bar the door; And there she saw the beggar, standin' i' the floor.

He took the lassie in his arms, and to the bed he ran; O, hoolie, hoolie, wi' me, sir; ye'll wauken our gude

man,

The beggar was a cunnin' loon, and ne'er a word he

spak, Until the cock began to craw; syne he began to crack.

Is there ony dowgs into this toun ? maiden, tell me

true. And what wad ye do wi' them, my hinnie and my

dow ?

They'll ryve a' my meal-pocks, and do me mickle wrang. Oh, dule for the dooin' o't! are ye the puir man?

Then she took up the meal-pocks, and flang them ower

the wa'; The deil gae wi' the meal-pocks, my maidenhead, and a'! I took ye for some gentleman, at least the Laird o'

Brodie; Oh, dule for the doin' o't! are ye the puir bodie ? He took the lassie in his arms, and gae her kisses three, And four-and-twenty hunder merks, to pay the nourice

fee.

He took a horn frae his side, and blew baith loud and

shrill, And four-and-twenty beltit knichts came skippin' ower

the bill.

And he took out his little knife, loot a' his duddies fa', And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang

them a'.

The beggar was a clever loun, and he lap shouther-hicht, And, aye for siccan quarters as I gat yesternicht! And we'll gang nae mair a-rovin', a-rovin' in the

nicht, And we'll gang nae mair a-rovin', boys, let the moon

shine ne'er sae bricht: And we'll gang nae mair a-rovin'.*

THE GABERLUNYIE MAN.

SUPPOSED TO BE BY KING JAMES V.

TUNE—The Gaberlunyie man.
The pawky auld carle cam ower the lee,
Wi' monie gude-e'ens and days to me,
Saying, Gudewife, for your courtesie,

Will ye lodge a silly puir man?
The nicht was cauld, the carle was wat,
And doun ayont the ingle he sat;
My douchter's shouthers he 'gan to clap,

And cadgily ranted and sang.

O, wow ! quo he, were I as free
As first when I saw this countrie,
How blythe and merry wad I be,
And I wad never think lang!

* From Herd's Collection, 1776.

He grew canty, and she grew fain ;
But little did her auld minnie ken
What thir slee twa together were sayin',

When wooing they were sae thrang.

And O! quo he, an ye were as black
As e'er the croun o' my daddie's hat,
It's I wad lay ye by my back,

And awą wi' me ye should gang.
And 01 quo she, an I were as white
As e'er the snaw lay on the dike,
I'd cleid me braw and lady-like,
And awa wi' thee I'd

gang.

Between the twa was made a plot ;
They rase a wee afore the cock,
And wylily they shot the lock,

And fast to the bent are they gane.
Up i' the morn the auld wife rase,
And at her leisure pat on her claise ;
Syne to the servants' bed she gaes,

To spier for the silly puir man.

She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay;
The strae was cauld-he was away;
She clapped her hands, cried, Waladay !

For some o' our gear will be gane.
Some ran to cof rs, and some to kists;
But nocht was stown that could be mist.
She danced her lane, cried, Praise be blest,

I have lodged a leal puir man!

Since naething's awa, as we can learn,
The kirn's to kirn, and milk to yirne;
Gae butt the house, and wauken

And bid her come quickly ben.

my bairn,

The servant gaed where the dauchter lay:
The sheets were cauld—she was away,
And fast to her gudewife 'gan say,

She's aff wi' the gaberlunyie man !

Oh, fye gar ride, and fye gar rin,
And haste ye find thae traitors again ;
For she's be burnt, and he's be slain,

The wearifu' gaberlunyie man!
Some rade upo' horse, some ran a-fit,
The wife was wud, and out o' her wit;
She couldna gang, nor yet could she sit,

But aye she cursed and she bann'd.

Meantime, far hind out ower the lee,
Fu' snug in a glen, where nane could see,
The twa, with kindly sport and glee,

Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
The prievin was gude—it pleased them baith ;
To loe her for aye he gae her his aith ;
Quo she, To leave thee I will be laith,

My winsome gaberlunyie man.

0, kend my minnie I were wi' you,
Ill-faurdly wad she crook her mou';
Sic a puir man she'll never trow,

After the gaberlunyie man.
My dear, quo he, ye're yet ower young,
And ba'na learn'd the beggars' tongue,
To follow me frae toun to toun,

And carry the gaberlunyie on.

Wi' cauk and keel I'll win your bread,
And spinles and whorles for them wha need ;
Whilk is a gentle trade indeed,

To carry the gaberlunyie on.