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In ilka dale, green, thaw, and park,

Will nourish health, and glad ye'r mind.

Soon as the clear goodman of day,

Bends up his morning.draught of dew, We'll


to some burn-fide and play, And gather flowers to bulk ye'r brow: We'll


the dailies on the green,, The lucken gowans frae the bog ; Between hands now and then we'll lean,

And sport upo' the velvet fog. There's up into a pleasant glen,

A wee piece frae my father's tow'r, A canny, soft, and Aow'ry den,

Where circling birks have form’d: a. bow'r : Whene'er the sun grows high and warm,

We'll to the cauler shade remove ; There will I lock thee in mine arm,

And love and kiss, and kiss and love.

SONG 185.


My mither's ay glowran o'er me,

Though she did the same before me; I canna, get leave to look to my loove,

Or else she'll be like to devour me.


Right fain wad I take ye'r offer,

Sweet Sir, but I'll tine tocher ; Then Sandy, ye'll fret, and wyte ye'r poor Kate,

Whene'er ye keek in your toom coffer.

For tho' my father has plenty,

Of aller and plenishing dainty,
Yet he's unco (wear to twin wi' his gear,

And fae we had need to be tenty.
Tutor my parents wi' caution,

Be wylie in ilka motion,
Brag weel o'ye'r land, and there's my leal hand,

Win them, I'll be at your devotion.

SONG 186.


Composed by a Clergyman at Aberdeen

Fidlers, your pins in temper fix,
And rozet weel your fiddle-sticks;
But bapib vile Italian tricks

Frae out your quorum,
Nor fortes wi' pianos mix ;
Gie's Tullochgorum.

COME, gie's a fang, the Lady cry'd,
And lay your disputes all aside,
What fignifies't for folks to chide

For what's been done before them?

Let Whig and Torry all agree,
Whig and Torry, Whig and Torry,.
Let Whig and Torry all agree,

To drop their whigmegmorum ::
Let Whig and Torry all agree,
To spend this night with mirth and gleeg,
And chearfu' fing alang wi' me.

The reel of Tullochgorum.,
Tullochgorum's my delight,
It gars us a' in ane upite ;
And ony fumph that keeps up spite,,

In conscience I abhor him.-
Blithe and merry we's be a’, ,
Blithe and merry, blithe and merry,
Blithe and merry we's be a',

To make a cheerfu' quorum.
Biithe and merry we's be a',
As lang's we ha'e breath to draw,,
And dance, 'till we be like to fa?,

The reel of Tulloch gorum.,

There needs na’ be so great a phrase
Wi? dringing dull Italian lays,
I wadna gi'e our ain Strathspeys

För half'a hundred score o’em :
They're douff and dowis at the best,
Douff and dowie, douff and dowie ;.
They're douff and dowie at the besty,

Wi'a'tkir variorem : ,

They're douff and dowie at the best,
Their allegroes; and a'the reft,
They cannot please a Highland taste,

Compar'd wi' Tullochgorum.

Let warldly minds themselves oppress,
Wi' fear of want, and double cess;
And filly sauls themselves diftress.

Wi' keeping up decorum :
Shall we sae lour and lucky St,
Sour and foulky, four and sulky;
Shall we lae four and sulky fit,

Like auld Philofophorum ?
Shall we sae four and sulky sit,
Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit ?
And canna rise to shake a fit

At the reel of Tullochgorum.

May choicest bleflings ftill attend
Each honeft-hearted open friend,
And calm and quiet be his end,

Be a' that's good before him !
May peace and plenty be his. lot,
Peace and plenty, peace and plenty ;
May peace and plenty be his lot,

And dainties a' great store o'em ! May peace and plenty be his lot, Unttain'd by any vicious blot ; And may he never want a groat

That's fond of Tullochgorum.

But for the discontented fool,
Who wants to be oppression's tool,
May envy gnaw his rotten foul,

And blackeft fiends devour him !
May dole and sorrow be his chance,
Dole and sorrow, dole and sorrow,
May dole and forrow be his chance,

And honest souls abhor him ! May dole and sorrow be his chance, And a' the ills that come frae France, Whoe'er he be that winna dance

The reel of Tullochgorum.

SONG 187.

The WAY TO KEEP HIM. YE fair, poffel’d of ev'ry charm

To captivate the will;
Whose smiles can rage itself disarm,

Whose frowns at once can kill:
Say, will you deign the verse to hear,

Where Aatt'ry bears no part? An honest verse that flows fincere,

And candid from the heart.

Great is your pow'r, but greater yet

Mankind it might engage, If, az ye all can make a net,

Ye all could make a cage.

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