Ye'se rue sair, this morning, your boasts and your scorning: Defend ye, fause traitor! for loudly ye lie. Awa wi' beguiling! cried the youth, smiling: Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee; The widow she's youthfu', and never ae hair The waur of the wearing, and has a good skair Of every thing lovely; she's witty and fair, And has a rich jointure, my laddie. What could ye wish better, your pleasure to crown, Than a widow, the bonniest toast in the town, down, The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shaw- With, Naething but-draw in your stool and sit ingFair stood the loved maid wi' the dark-rolling ee! Is it my wee thing! is it mine ain thing! me; I'll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee! THE WHITE COCKADE. My love was born in Aberdeen, O, leeze me on the philabeg, I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel, My rippling kame, and spinning wheel, A braidsword and a white cockade. I'll sell my rokely and my tow, May tak the field wi' his white cockade. THE WIDOW. ALLAN RAMSAY. THE widow can bake, and the widow can brew, The widow can shape, and the widow can sew, And mony braw things the widow can do; Then have at the widow, my laddie. With courage attack her, baith early and late: Ta kiss her and clap her ye maunna be blate: Speak well, and do better; for that's the best gate To win a young widow, my laddie. And sport with the widow, my laddie. Then till her, and kill her with courtesie dead, Though stark love and kindness be all you can plead; Be heartsome and airy, and hope to succeed With the bonnie gay widow, my laddie. Strike iron while 'tis het, if ye'd have it to wald; For fortune ay favours the active and bauld, But ruins the wooer that's thowless and cauld, Unfit for the widow, my laddie. THE YELLOW-HAIR'D LADDIE. OLD VERSES. Tune-"The yellow-hair'd Laddie." THE yellow-hair'd laddie sat down on yon brae, Cried, Milk the yowes, lassie, let nane o' them gae; And aye as she milkit, she merrily sang, man. The weather is cauld, and my cleadin is thin, The yowes are new clipt, and they winna bucht in; They winna bucht in, although I should dee: Oh, yellow-haird'd laddie, be kind unto me. And aye as she milkit, &c. The gudewife cries butt the house, Jennie, come ben ; The cheese is to mak, and the butter's to kirn. Though butter, and cheese, and a' should gang sour, I'll crack and I'll kiss wi' my love ae half hour. It's ae lang half hour, and we'll e'en mak it three, For the yellow-hair'd laddie my gudeman shall be.. From the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1724. THE YOUNG LAIRD AND EDINBURGH KATIE. RAMSAY. Tunt" Tartan Screen." Now wat ye wha I met yestreen, Fu' bonnie, braw, and sweet, my joe! My dear, quoth I, thanks to the nicht That never wiss'd a lover ill, Sin' ye're out o' your mither's sicht, Oh, Katie, wilt thou gang wi' me, The bleating lambs and whistling hynd, Will nourish health, and glad your mind. Sune as the clear gudeman o' day Does bend his mornin' draught o' dew, We'll gae to some burn-side and play, And gather flouirs to busk your brow. We'll pou the daisies on the green, The lucken-gowans frae the bog; Between hands, now and then, we'll lean And sport upon the velvet fog. There's, up into a pleasant glen, A wee piece frae my father's tower, Which circling birks have form'd a bower. And love and kiss, and kiss and love. I canna get leave To look at my love, Or else she'd be like to devour me. Right fain wad I tak' your offer, And wyte your puir Kate, For though my father has plenty To twine wi' his gear ; And sae we had need to be tenty. Tutor my parents wi' caution, Brag weel o' your land, WANDERING WILLIE. OLD VERSES. Tune" Wandering Willie." HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie' Now I have gotten my Willie again. Through the lang muir I have followed my Through the lang muir I have followed him Whatever betide us, nought shall divide us; Here awa, there awa, here awa, Willie! MY MOTHER'S AYE GLOWRIN' OWER Come, love, believe me, nothing can grieve me, ME; IN ANSWER TO THE YOUNG LAIRD AND RAMSAY. Tune-" My Mother's aye glowrin' ower me.” My mother's aye glowrin' ower me, Ilka thing pleases, when Willie's at hame." CAM YE O'ER FRAE FRANCE. CAM' ye o'er frae France, came ye doun by Saw ye Geordie Whelps and his bonny woman, Geordie he's a man, there is little doubt o't, It is quite as remarkable as it is true, that the mode of courtship among people of the middle ranks in Edinburgh has undergone a complete change in the course of no more than the last thirty years. It used to be customary for lovers to walk together for hours, both during the day and the evening, in the Meadows, He wad drive a trade at the loom o' Geordie.t or the King's Park, or the fields now occupied by the New Town; practices now only known to artizans and serving-girls. The song appeared in the Tea-Table Miscellany, 1781. • From Herd's Collection, 1776. This plainly alludes to Count Koningsmark and the Queen |