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My wife fits at the fire-fide ;
And the tear blinds ay her ce; The ne'er a bed will she gae to, But fit and tak the
. In the morning soon, when I came down,
The ne'er ae word the spake ;
And ay her head she'd shake.
To look fae four on me?
If ye'll ne'er tak’ the gee.
my neck, And twenty kisses, in a crack,
And, poor wee thing, she grat.
But bide at hame wi' me,
THE GAWKI E.
young Bess to Jean did say, Will ye gang to yon funny brae, Where Aocks do feed, and herds do ftray,
And sport a while wi' Jamie ?
Ah na, lass, I'll no gang there,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care ; For he's ta'en up wi' Maggie.
For hark, and I will tell you, lass,
her And Maggie took them ne'er amiss ; 'Tween ilka smack pleas'd her wi' this,
That Bess was but a gawkie.
I wat he
mony a kiss,
For when'er a civil kiss I seek,
Who'd not ca’ her a gawkie ?
shall be dawtie.
O Jamie, ye hae mony tane,
Sae ne'er think me a gawkie.
E'er to think thee a gawkic.
But, whish't, nae mair of this we'll speak,
1 trow he likes the gawkie.
Quoth she, that's like a gawkie.
And tell it to your dawtie.
I ne'er could meet my dawtie.
The laffes faft frae him they few,
Or yet ca'd Bess a gawkie.
THE MILLER OF DEE. THERE was a jolly miller once
Lir'd on the water of Dee; He wrought and sung frae morn to night,
No lark more blyth than he : And this the burden of his song
For ever us’d to be, “ I care for no body, no not I,
“ Since no body cares for me."
I live by my mid, God bless her,
She's kindred, child and wife ;
other in life.
E’er had a groat from me ;
If no body cares for me.
When spring begins his merry career,
O how his heart grows gay ;
Nor winter's fad decay :
Who's wont to sing and say,
I live from day to day.
Thus like the miller, bold and free,
Let us rejoice and fing,
And time is on the wing.
Along this jovial ring ;
To say, Long live the King.
B R AES OF YARROW. THE sun, just glancing thro’ the trees,
Gave light and joy to ilka grove ; And pleasure, in each southern breeze,
Awaken'd hope, and Num bering love. When Jeanie sung with hearty glee,
To charm her winsome Marrow,
My bonny, &c.
We'll s'er, &c.
Young Sandie was the blytheft lad,
That ever pip'd on broomy brae ; Nae lals.could see him free frae pain,
So youthful, brisk, so blyth and gay.