II. Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers, Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile; Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle! SONG XXXVI. WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT. AIR. THE HAPPY TOPERS. I. O WILLIE brew'd a peck o' maut, We are na fou, we're nae that fou II. Here are we met, three merry boys, III. It is the moon, I ken her horn, That's blinkin in the lift sae hie; She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, IV. Wha first shall rise to gang awa, We are na fou, &c. Willie, who "brew'd a peck o' maut," was Mr William Nicol; and Rob and Allan, were our poet, and his friend, Allan Cleghorn. These three honest fellows,all men of uncommon talents, are now all under the turf. |