Her body is bestowed well,

A handsome grave does hide her; But sure her soul is not in hell,

The deil would ne'er abide her. I rather think she is aloft,

And imitating thunder; For why, methinks I hear her voice Tearing the clouds asunder.

THENIEL MENZIE'S BONIE
MARY.

TUNE- The Ruffian's rant.

IN coming by the brig o' Dye,

At Darlet we a blink did tarry ;
As day was dawin in the sky

We drank a health to bonie Mary.
Theniel Menzie's bonie Mary,

Theniel Menzie's bonie Mary;
Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie,

Kissin' Theniel's bonie Mary.

Her een sae bright, her brow sae white,
Her haffet locks as brown's a berry,
An' ay they dimpled wi' a smile
The rosy cheeks o' bonie Mary.
Theniel Menzie's bonie Mary,
Theniel Menzie's bonie Mary;
Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie,

Kissin' Theniel's bonie Mary. We lap an' danced the lee-lang day, Till piper lads were wae an' weary, But Charlie gat the spring to pay For kissin' Theniel's bonie Mary. Theniel Menzie's bonie Mary, Theniel Menzie's bonie Mary; Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie, Kissin' Theniel's bonie Mary.

THE FAREWELL. TUNE-It was a' for our rightfu' King?' It was a' for our rightfu' King,

We left fair Scotland's strand; It was a' for our rightfu' King We e'er saw Irish land, My dear; We e'er saw Irish land.

Б

S

JAMIE, COME TRY ME.

TUNE-Jamie, come try me."

CHORUS.

Jamie, come try me,
Jamie, come try me ;
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.

IF thou should ask my love,

Could I deny thee?

If thou would win my love,

Jamie, come try me.

If thou should kiss me, love,
Wha could espy thee?
If thou wad be my love,
Jamie, come try me.

Jamie, come try me &c.

LANDLADY, COUNT THE

LAWIN.

TUNE- Hey tutti, taiti'
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 ay fou,
Cog an' ye were ay fou,
I wad sit and sing to you
If ye were ay 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.

TUNE- Lady Badinscoth's reel.' 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.

MY HEART WAS ANCE.

TUNE- To the weavers gin ye go. My heart was ance as blythe and free As simmer days were lang, But a bonie, westlin weaver lad Has gart me change my sang. To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids,

To the weavers gin ye go; I rede you right gang ne'er at night,

To the weavers gin ye go.

My mither sent me to the town,
To warp a plaiden wab;
But the weary, weary warpin o't
Has gart me sigh and sab.

A bonie westlin weaver lad
Sat working at his loom;
He took my heart as wi' a net,
In every knot and thrum.

I sat beside my warpin-wheel,
And ay I ca'd it roun';
But every shot and every knock,
My heart it gae a stoun.

The moon was sinking in the west
Wi' visage pale and wan,
As my bonie westlin weaver lad
Convoy'd me through the glen.

But what was said, or what was done,
Shame fa' me gin I tell;
But oh! I fear the kintra soon
Will ken as weel's mysel.

To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids, To the weavers gin ye go;

I rede you right gang ne'er at night, To the weavers gin ye go.

LOVELY DAVIES.

TUNE Miss Muir,

O HOW shall I, unskilfu', try

The poet's occupation, The tunefu' powers, in happy hours, That whisper inspiration? Even they maun dare an effort mair, Than aught they ever gave us, Or they rehearse, in equal verse, The charms o' lovely Davies.

Each eye it cheers, when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning,
When past the shower, and ev'ry flower
The garden is adorning.

As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is;
Sae droops our heart when we maun part
Frae charming lovely Davies.

Her smile's a gift, frae 'boon the lift,
That maks us mair than princes;
A scepter'd hand, a King's command,
Is in her darting glances:
The man in arms, 'gainst female charms,
Even he her willing slave is;
He hugs his chain, and owns the reign
Of conquering, lovely Davies.

My Muse to dream of such a theme,
Her feeble powers surrender;
The eagle's gaze alone surveys
The sun's meridian splendour:
I wad in vain essay the strain,

The deed too daring brave is; I'll drap the lyre, and mute admire The charms o lovely Davies.

KENMURE'S ON AND AWA.
TUNE O Kenmure's on and awa, Willie.
O KENMURE's on and awa, Willie !
O Kenmure's on and awa!
And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord
That ever Galloway saw.

Success to Kenmure's band, Willie !
Success to Kenmure's band;
There's no a heart that fears a Whig
That rides by Kenmure's hand.
Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie !
Here's Kenmure's health in wine;
There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's
Nor yet o' Gordon's line. [blude,

O Kenmure's lads are men, Willie !
O Kenmure's lads are men ;
Their hearts and swords are metal true
And that their faes shall ken.
They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie !
They'll live or die wi' fame;
But soon, wi' sounding victorie,

May Kenmure's lord come hame.
Here's him that's far awa, Willie !
Here's him that's far awa;
And here's the flower that I love best -
The rose that's like the snaw!

THE CAPTAIN'S LADY.
TUNE-O mount and go.'
CHORUS.

O mount and go,
Mount and make you ready;
O mount and go,

And be the Captain's Lady.
WHEN the drums do beat,
And the cannons rattle,
Thou shalt sit in state,
And see thy love in battle.
When the vanquish'd foe
Sues for peace and quiet,
To the shades we'll go,
And in love enjoy it.

O mount and go,

Mount and make you ready;

O mount and go,

And be the Captain's Lady.