Yestreen at the Valentines' dealing,
My heart to my mou gied a sten:
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written, Tam Glen.

The last Halloween I was waukin

My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken;
His likeness cam up the house staukin—
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!

Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie you my bonie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

GANE IS THE DAY.

TUNE-GUIDWIFE COUNT THE LAWIN.'

GANE is the day, and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for faute o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And bluid-red wine's the risin sun.

CHORUS.

Then guidwife count the lawin, the lawin, the lawin, Then guidwife count the lawin, and bring a coggie

mair.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple-folk maun fecht and fen',
But here we're a' in ae accord,

For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.
Then guidwife count, &c.

My coggie is a haly pool,

That heals the wounds o' care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,

An'

ye drink it a' ye'll find him out. Then guidwife count, &c.

MY TOCHER'S THE JEWEL.

O MEIKLE thinks my luve o' my beauty,
And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin;
But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie,
My Tocher's the jewel has charms for him.
It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree;

It's a' for the hiney he'll cherish the bee;
My laddie's sae meikle in luve wi' the siller,
He canna hae luve to spare for me.

Your proffer o' luve's an airl-penny,
My Tocher's the bargain ye wad buy;
But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin,

Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try. Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten wood, Ye're like to the bark o' yon rotten tree, Ye'll slip frae me like a knotless thread,

And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me.

WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE DO WI' AN AULD MAN.

TUNE-WHAT CAN A LASSIE DO.'

WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,

What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man? Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'! Bad luck on the penny, &c.

He's always compleenin frae mornin to e’enin, He hosts and he hirples the weary day lang : He's doylt and he's dozin, his bluid it is frozen, O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!

He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,
I never can please him do a' that I can ;
He's peevish, and jealous of a' the young fellows:
O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!

My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,
I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan;
I'll cross him, and rack him, until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.

O, FOR ANE AND TWENTY, TAM!

TUNE THE MOUDIEWORT.'

CHORUS.

An O for ane and twenty, Tam!

An hey, sweet ane and twenty, Tam! I'll learn my kin a rattlin sang,

An I saw ane and twenty, Tam.

THEY Snool me sair, and haud me down,
And gar me look like bluntie, Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun',
And then comes ane and twenty, Tam.
And O for ane, &c.

A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,
Was left me by my auntie, Tam;
At kith or kin I need na spier,
An I saw ane and twenty, Tam.
An O for ane, &c.

They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,
Tho' I mysel' hae plenty, Tam;
But hear'st thou, laddie, there's my loof,
I'm thine at ane and twenty, Tam!
An O for ane, &c.

THE BONNIE WEE THING.*

TUNE THE LADS OF SALTCOATS.'

BONNIE wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wast thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine.

Wistfully I look and languish

In that bonnie face o' thine;
And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,
Lest
my wee thing be na mine.

66

* Burns says this song was composed on my little idol, the charming lovely Davies." Allan Cunningham has given a very affecting history of the fair heroine of this song. Her name was Deborah, and she was the daughter of Dr. Davies, of Tenby, in Pembrokeshire, and was related to the Riddels, of Friars Carse. In 1791, she was in her twentieth year, equally agreeable and witty, and so little and so handsome, that some one welcomed her to the vale of Nith as one of the Graces in miniature. She formed an unfortunate attachment for a Captain Delany, His regiment was called abroad, he went with it; she heard from him but once and no more, and was left to mourn the change of affection-to droop and die." Thus, like another victim of ill requited love, her " heaviest ill" was

neglect, forgetfulness from him
Whom she had loved so dearly-once he wrote,
But only once that drop of comfort came,
To mingle with her cup of wretchedness—”