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Ew-BUGHTS MARION..

7Ill ye go to the ew-bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheep wi' me ?.

WT

The fun fhines fweet, my Marion,
But nae half fae fweet as thee..
O Marion's a bonny lafs,

And the blyth blink's in her eye;
And fain wad I marry Marion,
Gin Merion wad marry me..

There's

There's gowd in your garters, Marion,
And filk on your white haufs-bane;
Fu' fain wad I kifs my Marion,

At e'en when I come hame.

There's braw lads in Earnflaw, Marion,
Wha gape, and glowr with their eye,
At kirk, when they fee my Marion ;
But nane of them lo'es like me.

I've nine milk-ewes, my Marion z
A cow and a brawny quey,
I'll gi'e them a' to my Marion,
Juft on her bridal-day;
And ye's get a green fey apron,

And waftecoat of the London brown,
And wow but ye will be vap❜ring,
Whene'er ye gang to the town.

I'm young and ftout, my Marion;
Nane dances like me on the green :
And gin ye forfake me, Marion,
I'll e'en gae draw up wi' Jean:
Sae put on your pearlins, Marion,
And kyrtle of the cramafie;
And foon as my chin has nae hair on,
I fhall come weft, and fee ye.

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The blythfome Bridal.

Y let us a' to the bridal,

FY

For there will be lilting there;

For Jocky's to be married to Maggy,
The lafs wi' the gowden hair.

And there will be lang-kail and pottage,
And bannocks of barley-meal;
And there will be good fawt herring,
To relish a cog of good ale.

Fy let us a' to the bridal, &c.

And

And there will be Saney the futor,
And Will wi' the meikle mou';
And there will be Tam the blutter,
With Andrew the tinkler, I trow;
And there will be bow'd-legged Robbie,
With thumblefs Katy's goodman ;,
And there will be blue-cheeked Dowbie,
And Lawrie the laird of the land.
Fy let us, &c,

And there will be fow-libber Patie,
And plucky-fac'd Wat i' the mill,
Caper-nos'd Francie and Gibbie,

That wins in the how of the hill;
And there will be Alafter Sibbie,
Wha in with black Beffie did mool,
With fnivelling Lilly and Tibby,

The lafs that ftands aft on the stool,
Fy let us, &c.

And Madge that was buckled to Steenie,
And coft him grey breeks to his arse,
Who after was hangit for stealing,
Great mercy it happen'd na warfe :
And there will be gleed Geordy Janners,
And Kir with the lilly-white leg,
Wha gade to the south for manners,
And bang'd up her wame in Mons-meg.
Fy let us,

&c,

And there will be Judan Maclawrie,
And blinkin daft Barbara Macleg,
Wi' flae-lugged fharney-fac'd Lawrie,
And thangy-mou'd haluket Meg.
And there will be happer-ars'd Nancy,
And fairy-fac'd Flowrie by name,
Muck Madie, and fat-hippit Grify,
The lafs wi' the gowden wame,
Fy let us, &c.

And

And there will be Girn-again-Gibbie,
With his glaikit wife Jenny Bell,
And mifle-fhinn'd Mungo Macapie,
The lad that was skipper himfel.
There lads and laffes in pearlings
Will feaft in the heart of the ha',
On fybows, and rifarts, and carlings,
That are baith fodden and raw.
Fy let us, &c.

And there will be fadges and brachan,
With fowth of good gabbocks of skate,
Powfowdy, and drammock, and crowdy,
And caler nowt-feet in a plate.
And there will be partans and buckies,
And whitens and fpeldings enew,
With finged fheep-heads, and a haggies,
And feadlips to fup till ye fpew.

Fy let us, &c.

And there will be lapper'd milk kebbocks,
And fowens, and farls, and baps,
With fwats, and well fcraped-paunches,
And brandy in ftoups and in caps :
And there will be meal-kail and castocks,
With skink to fup till ye rive,

And roafts to roaft on a brander,

Of flowks that were taken alive.

Fy let us, &c.

Scrapt haddocks, wilks, dulfe and tangle,
And a mill of good fnishing to prie;
When weary with eating and drinking,
We'll rife up and dance till we die.

Then fy let us a' to the bridal,

For there will be lilting there;

For Jocky's to be married to Maggie,
The lafs wi' the gowden hair.

2.

The

TH

The HIGHLAND LADDIE.

HE lawland lads think they are fine
But O they're vain and idly gaudy!
How much unlike that gracefu' mien,
And manly looks of my highland laddie?
O my bonny, bonny highland laddie,
My bandfome, charming highland laddie;
May heaven ftill guard, and love reward
Our lawland lafs and her highland laddie.

If I were free at will to chufe

To be the wealthiest lawland lady,
I'd take young Donald without trews,
With bonnet blew, and belted plaidy.
O my bonny, &c.

The braweft beau in borrows-town,
In a' his airs, with art made ready,
Compar'd to him, he's but a clown;
He's finer far in's tartan plaidy.
O my bonny, &c.

O'er benty hill with him I'll run,

And leave my lawland kin and dady; Frae winter's cauld, and fummer's fun, He'll screen me with his highland plaidy. O my bonny, &c.

A painted room, and filken bed,

May please a lawland laird and lady; But I can kifs, and be as glad,

Behind a bush in's highland plaidy.

O my bonny, &c.

Few compliments between us pafs,
I ca' him my dear highland laddie,
And he ca's me his lawland lafs,
Syne rows me in beneath his plaidy.
O my bonny, &c.

VOL. I.

* H

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