THE PLOUGHMAN.

TUNE-UP WI' THE PLOUGHMAN.'

THE ploughman he's a bonie lad,
His mind is ever true, jo,
His garters knit below his knee,
His bonnet it is blue, jo.

CHORUS.

Then up wi't a', my ploughman lad,
And hey, my merry ploughman;
Of a' the trades that I do ken,
Commend me to the ploughman.

My ploughman he comes hame at e'en,
He's aften wat and weary;
Cast off the wat, put on the dry,
And gae to bed, my Dearie !
Up wi't a', &c.

I will wash my ploughman's hose,
And I will dress his o'erlay ;
I will mak my ploughman's bed,
And cheer him late and early.
Up wi't a', &c.

I hae been east, I hae been west,
I hae been at Saint Johnston,
The boniest sight that e'er I saw
Was the ploughman laddie dancin'.
Up wi't a', &c.

TIME— HEY, CA TERO"."

Up wf the carles of Dysart,
And the lads of Buckhaven,
And the kimmers of Largo,
And the lasses o' Leven.
Hey, ca' thro', ca' thro,
For we hae mickle ado;
Hey, ca' thro', ca' thro',

For we hae mickle ado.

We hae tales to tell,

And we hae sangs to sing;
We hae pennies to spend,
And we hae pints to bring.

We'll live a' our days,

And them that come behin',

Let them do the like,

And spend the gear they win.

Hey, ca' thro', ca' thro',
For we hae mickle ado;
Hey, ca' thro', ca' thro',

For we hae mickle ado.

WEARY FA' YOU, DUNCAN GRAY.

TUNE-DUNCAN GRAY.'

WEARY fa' you, Duncan Gray-
Ha, ha, the girdin o't!

Wae gae by you, Duncan Gray-
Ha, ha, the girdin o't!

When a' the lave gae to their play,
Then I maun sit the lee-lang day,
And jog the cradle wi' my tae,
And a' for the girdin o't.

Bonie was the Lammas moon-
Ha, ha, the girdin o't!
Glowrin' a' the hills aboon-

Ha, ha, the girdin o't!

The girdin brak, the beast cam down,
I tint my curch, and baith my shoon;
Ah! Duncan, ye're an unco loon-
Wae on the bad girdin o't!

But, Duncan, gin ye'll keep your aith—
Ha, ha, the girdin o't!

Ise bless you wi' my hindmost breath

Ha, ha, the girdin o't!

Duncan, gin ye'll keep your aith,

The beast again can bear us baith,

And auld Mess John will mend the skaith,

And clout the bad girdin o't.

MY HOGGIE.

TUNE-WHAT WILL I DO GIN MY HOGGIE DIE.'

WHAT will I do gin my Hoggie die?
My joy, my pride, my Hoggie!
My only beast, I had nae mae,
And vow but I was vogie!

The lee-lang night we watch'd the fauld,
Me and my faithfu' doggie;

We heard nought but the roaring linn, Amang the braes sae scroggie;

But the howlet cry'd frae the castle wa',
The blitter frae the boggie,

The tod reply'd upon the hill,
I trembled for my Hoggie.

When day did daw, and cocks did craw,
The morning it was foggie;

An' unco tyke lap o'er the dyke,
And maist has kill'd my Hoggie.

WHERE HAE YE BEEN.

TUNE-KILLIECRANKIE.'

WHARE hae ye been sae braw, lad?

Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O? O, whare hae ye been sae braw, lad? Cam ye by Killiecrankie, O;

An' ye had been whare I hae been,
Ye wad na been so cantie, O;
An' ye had seen what I hae seen,
On the braes o' Killecrankie, O.

I fought at land, I fought at sea;
At hame I fought my auntie, O;
But I met the Devil an' Dundee,

On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.
The bauld Pitcur fell in a furr,
An' Clavers got a clankie, O;
Or I had fed an Athole gled,

On the braes o' Killiecrankie, O.

COCK UP YOUR BEAVER.

TUNE- COCK UP YOUR BEAVER.'

WHEN first my brave Johnnie lad
Came to this town,
He had a blue bonnet

That wanted the crown;

But now he has gotten
A hat and a feather,-
Hey, brave Johnnie lad,
Cock up your beaver!

Cock up your beaver,

And cock it fu' sprush,

We'll over the border

And gie them a brush;

There's somebody there

We'll teach better behaviour

Hey, brave Johnnie lad,

Cock up your beaver!