What is the greatest bliss that the tongue o' man can

name?

'Tis to woo a bonnie lassie when the kye come hame. When the kye come hame, when the kye come hame, 'Tween the gloamin and the mirk, when the kye come hame.

'Tis not beneath the burgonet, nor yet beneath the crown, 'Tis not on couch of velvet, nor yet on lair of down : 'Tis beneath the spreading birch, in the dell without the

name,

Wi' a bonnie, bonnie lassie, when the kye come hame.

There the blackbird bigs his nest for the mate he loves

to see,

And up upon the tapmost bough, oh, a happy bird is he! Then he pours his melting ditty, and love 'tis a' the theme, And he'll woo his bonnie lassie when the kye come hame.

When the bluart bears a pearl, and the daisy turns a pea, And the bonnie lucken gowan has fauldit up his ee, Then the lavrock frae the blue lift draps down, and

thinks nae shame

To woo his bonnie lassie when the kye come hame.

Then the eye shines sae bright, the haill soul to beguile, There's love in every whisper, and joy in every smile; O, who would choose a crown, wi' its perils and its fame, And miss a bonnie lassie when the kye come hame!

See yonder pawky shepherd that lingers on the hill— His yowes are in the fauld, and his lambs are lying still; Yet he downa gang to rest, for his heart is in a flame To meet his bonnie lassie when the kye come hame.

Awa wi' fame and fortune-what comfort can they gie?

And a' the arts that prey on man's life and libertie!

Gie me the highest joy that the heart o' man can frame'; My bonnie, bonnie lassie, when the kye come hame.*

CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES.

BURNS.

CA' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rowes,
My bonnie dearie.

Hark, the mavis' evening sang,
Sounding Cluden's woods amang;
Then a-faulding let us gang,
My bonnie dearie.

We'll gang doun by Cluden side,
Through the hazels spreading wide
O'er the waves that sweetly glide,
My bonnie dearie.

Yonder Cluden's silent towers,
Where, at moonshine midnight hours,
O'er the dewy budding flowers
The fairies dance sae cheerie.

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear,

Nocht of ill may come thee near,
My bonnie dearie.

Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stoun my very heart;
I can die-but canna part,

My bonnie dearie.

* From The Three Perils of Man, a Novel, 3 vols. 1821.

CONTENTIT WI' LITTLE.

BURNS.

TUNE-Lumps o' Puddin.

CONTENTIT wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care,
I gie them a skelp, as they're creepin' alang,
W' a cogue o' gude swats and an auld Scottish sang.

I whiles claw the elbow o' troublesome thocht;
But man is a sodger, and life is a faucht:

My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,
And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch daur touch.

A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa',
A nicht o' gude fellowship sowthers it a':
When at the blythe end o' our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?

way;

Blind chance, let her snapper and stoite on her Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jaud gae; Come ease or come travail, come pleasure or pain, My warst word is-Welcome, and welcome, again!

THE DRUCKEN WIFE O' GALLOWAY. TUNE-Hooly and fairly.

DOUN in yon meadow a couple did tarry:

The gudewife she drank naething but sack and canary; The gudeman complain'd to her friends richt early— Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly,

Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

First she drank Crummie, and syne she drank Gairie, And syne she drank my bonnie gray marie,

That carried me through a' the dubs and the glairieOh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

She drank her hose, she drank her shoon,
And syne she drank her bonnie new goun;
She drank her sark that cover'd her rarely-
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

Wad she drink but her ain things, I wadna care,
But she drinks my claes that I canna weil spare;
When I'm wi' my gossips it angers me sairly-
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

My Sunday's coat she's laid it in wad,
And the best blue bonnet e'er was on my head;
At kirk or at mercat I'm cover'd but barely—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

My bonny white mittens I wore on my hands,
Wi' her neibour's wife she laid them in pawns ;
My bane-headed staff that I looed sae dearly-
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

I never was for wranglin' nor strife,
Nor did I deny her the comforts o' life;
For when there's a war, I'm aye for a parly-
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

When there's ony money she maun keep the purse;
If I seek but a bawbee she'll scold and she'll curse;
She lives like a queen-I but scrimpit and sparely—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

A pint wi' her cummers I wad her allow;
But when she sits down, oh, the jaud she gets fou,
And when she is fou she is unco camstarie-
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

When she comes to the street she roars and she rants, Has nae fear o❜ her neibours, nor minds the house wants; She rants up some fule-sang, like, Up your heart, Charlie !

Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!

When she comes hame she lays on the lads,
The lasses she ca's baith bitches and jauds,
And ca's mysell an auld cuckle-carlie-
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!*

DELUDED SWAIN, THE PLEASURE.

BURNS.

TUNE-The Collier's Bonnie Lassie.

DELUDED Swain, the pleasure

The fickle fair can give thee

Is but a fairy treasure

Thy hopes will soon deceive thee.

The billows on the ocean,

The breezes idly roaming,
The clouds' uncertain motion,
They are but types of woman.

O art thou not ashamed
To doat upon a feature?
If man thou wouldst be named,
Despise the silly creature.

Go, find an honest fellow;

Good claret set before thee:
Hold on till thou art mellow;
And then to bed in glory.

From Herd's Collection, 1776.

F