Little wat ye wha's coming, Little wat ye wha's coming, Little wat ye wha's coming; Mony a buttock bare's coming!

OCH HEY, JOHNNIE LAD.

TANNAHILL.

OCH hey, Johnnie lad,

Ye're no sae kind's ye sou'd hae been ; Och hey, Johnnie lad,

Ye didna keep your tryst yestreen.

I waited lang beside the wood,
Sae wae and weary a' my lane:
Och hey, Johnnie lad,

It was a waefu' nicht yestreen!

I lookit by the whinny knowe,

I lookit by the firs sae green; I lookit ower the spunkie howe,

And aye I thocht ye wad hae been. The ne'er a supper cross'd my craig,

The ne'er a sleep has closed my een: Och hey, Johnnie lad,

Ye're no sae kind's ye sou'd hae been

Gin ye were waitin' by the wood,

It's I was waitin' by the thorn; I thecht it was the place we set, And waited maist till dawnin' morn. But be nae beat, my bonnie lass,

Let my waitin' stand for thine; We'll awa to Craigton shaw,

And seek the joys we tint yestreen.

OUR GUDEMAN CAM' HAME AT E'EN.

OUR gudeman cam hame at e'en, And hame cam he;

And there he saw a saddle-horse, Where nae horse should be. Oh, how cam this horse here?

How can this be? How cam this horse here? Without the leave o' me? A horse! quo' she; Aye, a horse, quo' he. Ye auld blind dotard carle, And blinder mat ye be ! It's but a bonnie milk-cow, My mither sent to me. A milk-cow! quo' he; Aye, a milk-cow, quo' she.

Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen; But a saddle on a milk-cow

Saw I never nane.

Our gudeman cam hame at e'en,
And hame cam he';

He spied a pair o' jack-boots,
Where nae boots should be.
What's this now, gudewife?
What's this I see?

How cam thae boots here,
Without the leave o' me?
Boots! quo' she;
Aye, boots, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a pair o' water-stoups,
The cooper sent to me.
Water-stoups! quo' he s
Aye, water-stoups, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen;
But siller-spurs on water-stoups
Saw I never nane.

Our gudeman cam hame at e'en,

And hame cam he;

And there he spied a powder'd wig,

Where nae wig should be.
What's this now, gudewife?

What's this I see?
How cam this wig here,
Without the leave o' me?
A wig! quo' she;
Aye, a wig, quo' he,
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
"Tis naething but a clocken-hen
My minnie sent to me.

A clocken-hen! quo' he; Aye, a clocken-hen, quo' she. Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen,

But pouther on a clocken-hen
Saw I never nane.

Our gudeman cam hame at e'en, And hame cam he;

162

And there he saw a mickle coat,

Where nae coat should be.

How cam this coat here?

How can this be?
How can this coat here,
Without the leave o' me?
A coat! quo' she;
Aye, a coat, quo' he.
Ye auld blind dotard carle,
And blinder mat ye be !
It's but a pair o' blankets
My minnie sent to me.
Blankets! quo' he;
Aye, blankets, quo' she.
Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen;
But buttons upon blankets
Saw I never nane!

Ben gaed our gudeman,

And ben gaed he;

And there he spied a sturdy man,

Where nae man should be.

How cam this man here?

How can this be?

How cam this man here,

Without the leave o' me?
A man! quo' she;
Aye, a man, quo' he.

Puir blind body,

And blinder mat you be !
It's but a new milkin' maid,
My mither sent to me.
A maid! quo' he;
Aye, a maid, quo' she.

Far hae I ridden,

And muckle hae I seen, But lang-bearded maidens Saw I never nane.

IF YE'LL BE MY DAWTIE, AND SIT IN MY PLAID.

Tune- Hie, Bonnie Lassie."

HIE, bonnie lassie, blink over the burn,
And if your sheep wander I'll gie them a turn;
Sae happy as we'll be on yonder green shade,
If ye'll be my dawtie, and sit in my plaid.

A yowe and twa lammies are a' my haill stock,
But I'll sell a lammie out o' my wee flock,
To buy thee a head-piece, sae bonnie and braid,
If ye'll be my dawtie, and sit in my plaid.

I hae little siller, but ae hauf-year's fee,
But if ye will tak' it, I'll gie't a' to thee;
And then we'll be married, and lie in ae bed,
If ye'll be my dawtie, and sit in my plaid.

I'LL NEVER LEAVE THEE.'

RAMSAY.

JOHNNY.

THOUGH, for seven years and mair, honour should reave me

To fields where cannons rair, thou needsna grieve thee;

For deep in my spirit thy sweets are indented; And love shall preserve ay what love has im

printed.

Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee, Gang the warld as it will, dearest, believe me!

NELLY.

Oh, Johnny, I'm jealous, whene'er ye discover My sentiments yielding, ye'll turn a loose rover ;. And nought in the world would vex my heart sairer,

If you prove inconstant, and fancy ane fairer. Grieve me, grieve me, oh, it wad grieve me, A' the lang night and day, if you deceive me!

JOHNNY.

My Nelly, let never sic fancies oppress ye; For, while my blood's warm, I'll kindly caress ye:

Your saft blooming beauties first kindled love's

fire,

Your virtue and wit mak it ay flame the higher.
Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee,
Gang"
e world as it will, dearest, believe me!

1793, mentions, that he had heard it gravely asserted at Edinburgh, that "a foolish song, beginning.

Go, go, go, go to Berwick, Johnie!

Thou shalt have the horse, and I shall have the poney!

was made upon one of Wallace's marauding expedi tions, and that the person thus addressed was no other than his fidus Achátes, Sir John Graham,"

As walking forth to view the plain,
Upon a morning early,

While May's sweet scent did cheer my brain,
From flowers which grow so rarely,

I chanced to meet a pretty maid;
She shined, though it was foggy ;

I ask'd her name: sweet Sir, she said,
My name is Katherine Ogie.

I stood a while, and did admire,
To see a nymph so stately;
So brisk an air there did appear,
In a country maid so neatly:
Such natural sweetness she display'd,
Like a hilie in a bogie;
Diana's self was ne'er array'd

Like this same Katherine Ogie.

Thou flower of females, beauty's queen,
Who sees thee, sure must prize thee;
Though thou art drest in robes but mean,
Yet these cannot disguise thee:
Thy handsome air, and graceful look,
Far excels any clownish rogie;
Thou art a match for lord or duke,
My charming Katherine Ogie.

O were I but some shepherd swain !
To feed my flock beside thee,
At boughting-time to leave the plain,
In milking to abide thee;
I'd think myself a happier man,
With Kate, my club, and dogie,
Than he that hugs his thousands ten,
Had I but Katherine Ogie.

OWER BOGIE

ALLAN BAMSAY.

Tune-" O'er Bogie." ·

I WILL awa' wi' my love,
I will awa' wi' her,
Though a' ny kin had sworn and said,
I'll ower Bogie wi' her.
If I can get but her consent,
I dinna care a strae ;

Though ilka ane be discontent,
Awa' wi her I'll gae.

For now she's mistress o' my heart,
And wordy o' my hand;
And weel, I wat, we shanna part
For siller or for land.
Let rakes delight to swear and drink,
And beaux admire fine lace;
But my chief pleasure is to blink
On Betty's bonnie face.

I will awa' wi' my love,

I will awa' wi' her,

Though a' my kin had sworn and said, I'll o'er Bogie wi' her.

LASS, GIN YE LO'E ME.

JAMES TYTLER.

LASSIE, LIE NEAR ME.

DR. BLACKLOCK.

Tune" Laddie, lie near me."

LANG hae we parted been,
Lassie, my deerie ;
Now we are met again,

Lassie, lie near me.

Near me, near me,

Lassie, lie near me.

Lang hast thou lain thy lane; Lassie, lie near me.

A' that I hae endured,

Lassie, my dearie, Here in thy arms is cured; Lassie, lie near me.

LOW DOUN I THE BRUME.
Tune-" Low doun f' the Broom."

My daddie is a cankert carle,

He'll no twine wi' his gear;
`My minnie she's a scauldin' wife,
Hauds a' the house asteer.

But let them say, or let them do,
It's a' ane to me,

For he's low doun, he's in the brume,
That's waitin' on me:
Waiting on me, my love,

He's waiting on me :

For he's low doun, he's in the brume,
That's waitin' on me.

My auntie Kate sits at her wheel,
And sair she lightlies me;
But weel I ken it's a' envy,
For ne'er a joe has she.

And let them say, &c.

My cousin Kate was sair beguiled
Wi' Johnnie o' the Glen;
And aye sinsyne she cries, Beware
O' fause deluding men.

And let them say, &c.

Gleed Sandy he cam wast yestreen, And speir'd when I saw Pate; And aye sinsyne the neebors round They jeer me air and late.

And let them say, &c.

THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING.

Tune-" The Campbells are coming."

The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho!
The Campbells are coming, O-ho!
The Campbells are coming to bonnie Loch-
leven!

The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho! UPON the Lomonds I lay, I lay;

Upon the Lomonds 1 lay;

I lookit doun to bonnie Lochleven,
And saw three perches play.

The Campbells are coming, &c.

Great Argyle he goes before;

He makes the cannons and guns to roar ; With sound o' trumpet, pipe, and drum; The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho! The Campbells are coming, &c.

The Campbells they are a' in arms,

Their loyal faith and truth to show, With banners rattling in the wind; The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho! • The Campbells are coming, &c.

MERRY HAE I BEEN TEETHING A HECKLE.

Tune" Lord Breadalbane's March."

O MERRY hae I been teething a heckle, And merry hae I been shapin a spune ; O merry hae I been cloutin a kettle,

And kissin my Katie when a' was dune. O a' the lang day I ca' at my hammer, And a' the lang day I whistle and sing; A' the lang nicht I cuddle my kimmer, And a' the lang nicht as happy's a king.

Bitter in dule I lickit my winnins,

O' marrying Bess, to gie her a slave: Blest be the hour she cooled in her linens, And blythe be the bird that sings over her grave!

Come to my arms, my Katie, my Katie,

And come to my arms, my Katie again! Drucken or sober, here's to thee, Katie! And blest be the day I did it again!

From Johnson's Musical Museum, Part III., 1790; where it is insinuated, as an on dit, that it was com posed on the imprisonment of Queen Mary in Lochleven Castle. The Lomonds are two well-known

MY AULD MAN.

Tune-" Saw ye my Father?"

In the land of Fife there lived a wicked wife,
And in the town of Cupar then,

Who sorely did lament, and made her complaint,
Oh when will ye die, my auld man?

In cam her cousin Kate, when it was growing late,

She said, What's gude 'for an auld man?

O wheit-breid and wine, and a kinnen new slain ;

That's gude for an auld man.

Cam ye in to jeer, or cam ye in to scorn,
And what for cam ye in?

For bear-bread and water, I'm sure, is much better

It's ower gude for an auld man.

Now the auld man's deid, and, without remeid, Into his cauld grave he's gane :

Lie still wi' my blessing! of thee I hae nae missing;

I'll ne'er mourn for an auld man.

Within a little mair than three quarters of a year,
She was married to a young man then,
Who drank at the wine, and tippled at the beer,
And spent more gear than he wan.

Betty, lassy, say't thysell,

Though thy dame be ill to shoe : First we'll buckle, then we'll tell;

Let her flyte, and syne come to. What signifies a mother's gloom, When love and kisses come in play? Should we wither in our bloom, And in simmer mak nae hay? For the sake of somebody, &c.

Bonny lad, I carena by,

Though I try my luck wi' thee,' Since ye are content to tie

The half-mark bridal-band wi' me. I'll slip hame and wash my feet,

And steal on linens fair and clean; Syne at the trysting-place we'll meet, To do but what my dame has done.' For the sake of somebody,

For the sake of somebody,
I could wake a winter nicht,
For the sake of somebody.

SANDY O'ER THE LEE.

Tune-" Sandy o'er the lee."

I WINNA marry ony man but Sandy ower the lee,

I winna marry ony man but Sandy ower the lee;

From Ritson's "Scottish Songs," 1793, into which the editor mentious that it was copied from some common collection, whose title he did not remember. It has often been the task of the Scottish muse to point out the evils of ill-assorted alliances; but she has scarcely ever done so with so much hu

But I will hae my Sandy lad, my Sandy ower

painting, as in the present case. No tune is assigned to the song in Ritson's Collection; but the present editor has ventured to suggest the fine air, "Saw ye my father, rather as being suitable to the peculiar rhythm of the verses, than to the spirit of the composition.

Tune-"My Love is but a lassie yet."

My love, she's but a lassie yet; My love, she's but a lassie yet;