TO TIBBIE

Tune-" Invercald's Reel."

CHORUS.

O Tibbie, I hae seen the day,
Ye would nae been sae shy;
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care na by.

Yestreen I met you on the moor,
Ye spak na, but gaed by like stoure:
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,
But fient a hair care I.

O Tibbie, &c.

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think, Because ye hae the name o' clink, That ye can please me at a wink, Whene'er ye like to try.

O Tibbie, &c.

But sorrow tak him that's sae mean;
Altho' his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows onie saucy quean
That looks sae proud and high.
O Tibbie, &c.

Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head anither airt,
And answer him fu' dry.

O Tibbie, &c.

gear,

But if he hae the name o'
Ye'll fasten to him like a brier,
Tho' hardly he, for sense or lear,
Be better than the kye.

O Tibbie, &c.

But, Tibbie, lass tak my advice,

Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice: The deal a ane wad spier your price, Were ye as poor as I.

O Tibbie, &c.

There lives a lass in yonder park,
I would na gie her in her sark,
For thee wi' a' thy thousand mark:
Ye needna look sae high.

O Tibbie, &c.

DUNCAN GRAY.

DUNCAN Gray came here to woo,

Ha, ha, the wooing o't,

On blythe yule night when we were fu',
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,

Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:

Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan fleech'd and Duncan pray'd :
Ha, ha, &c.

Meg was deaf as Ailsa craig,

Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
Grat his een baith bleer't and blin',
Spak o' louping o'er a linn;
Ha, ha, &c.

Time and chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, &c.

Slighted love is sair to bide,

Ha, ha, &c.

Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie die!
She may gae to-France for me!
Ha, ha, &c.

How it comes let doctors tell,
Ha, ha, &c.

Meg grew sick-as he grew heal,
Ha, ha, &c.

Something in her bosom wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings;

And O, her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, &c.

Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan could na be her death, Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath; Now they're crouse and cantie baith Ha, ha, &c.

THE BRAW WOOER.

Tune-"The Lothian Lassie."

LAST May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen And sair wi' his love he did deave me !

I said there was naething I hated like men,

The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me, believe me, The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me.

He spak o' the darts in my bonie black e'en,
And vow'd for my love he was dying;
1 said he might die when he liked, for Jean;
The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying.
The Lord forgie me for lying.

A well-stocked mailen, himsel for the laird,
And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers;
I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd,
But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers;
But thought I might hae waur offers.

But what wad you think, in a fortnight or less,
The deil tak his taste to gae near her!
He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess,
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could
bear her,

Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her.

VOL. II.-R

But a' the niest week as I fretted wi' care,
I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock,

And wha but my fine, fickle lover was there,
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.

But owre my left shouther I gaed him a blink, Lest neebors might say I was saucy;

My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink, And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie, And vow'd I was his dear lassie.

I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthie and sweet, Gin she had recover'd her hearin,

And how her new shoon fit her auld shackl'tfeet, But, heavens' how he fell a-swearin, a-swear in, But heavens! how he fell a-swearin.

He begg'd for Gudesake! I wad be his wife,
Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow:
So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow.