Till Charlie Stuart cam at last, My Donald's arm was wanted then Their waefu' fate what need I tell? Och-on, O Donald, oh! Och-on, och-on, och-rie! THERE WAS A BONNY LASS. THERE was a bonny lass, And a bonny, bonny lass, And she lo'ed her bonny laddie dear; Till war's loud alarms Tore her laddie frae her arms, Over sea, over shore, Where the cannons loudly roar, But the bonny lass he lo'ed sae dear. OH, WAT YE WHAT MY MINNIE DID? OH, wat ye what my minnie did, She laid me in a saft bed, And bade guid e'en to me, jo. And wat ye what the parson did, The parson did, the parson did, And wat ye what the parson did, OH, GUID ALE COMES. CHORUS OH, guid ale comes, and guid ale goes, I had sax owsen in a pleugh, Guid ale hauds me bare and busy, Weel I wat she was a quent Wad made a body's mount to voter Our Mess His haly lips wat like a bet Off she started in a fright And through the bries as the clicker But souple Donald pricker fev, And in his arm he lock i ber notes 2 1 Head. 2 Run. And dogs like broo, Lads like lasses weel, And lasses lads too. We're a' noddin, nid, nid, noddin, YOUNG JAMIE, PRIDE OF A' THE PLAIN. YOUNG Jamie, pride of a' the plain, 1 Suffer. COMING THROUGH THE RYE. Tune "Coming through the rye.” O Jenny's a' wat, poor body, Gin3 a body meet a body Gin a body meet a body THE CARLES OF DYSART. Tune-"Hey, ca' through." UP wi' the carles1 o' Dysart 2 Soiled. 4 Old men. 3 If. And the kimmers1 o' Largo, Hey, ca' through, ca'2 through, We hae tales to tell, And we hae sangs to sing; We'll live a' our days, And them that come behin', Let them do the like, And spend the gear they win. IS THERE, FOR HONEST POVERTY. Tune-"For a' that and a' that." BURNS had too good an idea of his own powers to have been serious in his depreciation of this fine song. He says:-"A great critic on songs says that love and wine are the exclusive themes for song-writing. The following is on neither subject, and is consequently no song; but will be allowed, I think, to be two or three pretty good prose thoughts inverted into rhyme." Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that? Our toils obscure, and a' that; The rank is but the guinea-stamp, What though on hamely fare we dine, For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show and a' that The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Ye see yon birkie,* ca'd a lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; 1 Young women. 2 Push. * Literally the phrase means a mettlesome fellow: here it must be rendered a proud and affected fellow. |