Dear Belly Bell and Mary Gray,
Ye unco fair opprefs us ;
Our fancies jee between you twa,
Ye are fic bonny laffes :
Wae's me! for baith I canna get,
To ane by law we're ftented;
Then I'll draw cuts, and take my fate,
And be with ane contented.

TH

I'll never leave thee.

JONNY.

HO' for feven years and mair, honour shou'd reave me,

To fields where cannons rair, thou need na grieve thee:
For deep in my fpirits thy fweets are indented;
And love fhall preferve ay what love has imprinted.
Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee,
Gang the warld as it will, dearest, believe me.

NELLY.

O Jonny, I'm jealous whene'er ye discover My fentiments yielding, ye'll turn a loose rover ; And nought i' the warld wad vex my heart fairer, If you prove unconftant, and fancy ane fairer. Grieve me, grieve me, oh it wad grieve me! A' the lang night and day, if you deceive me.

JONNY.

My Nelly, let never fic fancies opprefs ye, For, while my blood's warm, I'll kindly carefs ye: Your blooming saft beauties first beeted love's fire, Your vertue and wit make it ay flame the higher. Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee, Gang the warld as it will, deareft, believe me.

NELLY.

Then, Jonny, I frankly this minute allow ye To think me your miftrifs, for love gars me trow ye;

And

And gin you prove faufe, to ye'r fell be it faid then, Ye'll win but fma' honour to wrong a kind maiden. Reave me, reave me, heavens! it wad reave me Of my rest night and day, if ye deceive me.

JONNY.

Bid icefhogles hammer red gauds on the ftuddy, And fair fimmer mornings nae mair appear ruddy, Bid Britons think ae gate, and when they obey ye, But never till that time, believe I'll betray ye, Leave thee, leave thee, I'll never leave thee; The starns fhall gang withershins e'er I deceive thee.

L°

My Deary, if you die.

OVE never more shall give me pain,
My fancy's fix'd on thee;

Nor ever maid my heart fhall gain,
My Peggy, if thou die.

Thy beauties did fuch pleasure give,.
Thy love's fo true to me:

Without thee I fhall never live,.
My deary, if thou die.

If fate fhall tear thee from my

How fhall I lonely ftray?

breaft,

In dreary dreams the night I'll waste,.
In fighs the filent day.

I ne'er can fo much virtue find,

Nor fuch perfection fee:

Then I'll renounce all woman-kind,

My Peggy, after thee.

No new blown beauty fires my heart

With Cupid's raving rage,

But thine which can fuch fweets impart,,
Muft all the world engage.
Twas this that like the morning fun
Gave joy and life to me;

Ꭰ Ꮞ

And

L

And when its deftin'd day is done,
With Peggy let me die.

Ye powers that fmile on virtuous love,
And in fuch pleasure share;
You who its faithful flames approve,
With pity view the fair.

Reftore my Peggy's wonted charms,

Thofe charms fo dear to me;

Oh! never rob them from those arms :

I'm loft, if Peggy die.

My Jo JANET.

WEET Sir, for your courtefie,
When ye come by the Bass then,

For the love ye bear to me,

Buy me a keeking glafs then. Keek into the draw well,

Keeking in the draw-well clear,
What if I fhou'd fa' in,
Syne a' my kin will fay and fwear,
I drown'd my fell for fin.
Had the better be the brae,

Janet, Janet;

Had the better be the brae,

My Jo Janet.

Good Sir, for your courtefie,
Coming through Aberdeen then,
For the love ye bear to me,
Buy me a pair of fhoon then.
Clout the auld, the new are dear,
Janet, Janet;

Ae pair may gain ye haff a year,
My Jo Janet.

C.

But

But what if dancing on the green,
And skipping like a mawking,
If they fhould fee my clouted fhoon,
Of me they will be tauking.
Dance ay laigh, and late at e'en,
Janet, Janet,

Syne a' their fauts will no be feen,
My Jo Janet.

Kind Sir, for your courtefie,
When ye gae to the cross then,
For the love ye bear to me,
Buy me a pacing horfe then.
Pace upo' your fpinning-wheel,
Janet, Janet,

Pace upo' your fpinning-wheel,

My

My Jo Janet.

fpinning-wheel is auld and ftiff,
The rock o't winna ftand, Sir,
To keep the temper-pin in tiff,
Employs aft my hand, Sir,
Make the best o't that ye can,
Janet, Janet;

But like it never wale a man,
My Jo Janet.

SONG.

To the Tune of, John Anderson my Jo.

'HAT means this nicenefs now of late, Since time that truth does prove

WH

Such diftance may consist with state,
But never will with love.
"Tis either cunning or disdain
That does fuch ways allow;
The first is bafe, the laft is vain :
May neither happen you.

For if it be to draw me on,
You over-act your part;
And if it be to have me gone,
You need not haff that art:
For if you chance a look to caft,
That feems to be a frown,
I'll give you all the love that's past,
The reft fhall be my own.

A

Auld ROB MORRIS.

MITHE R.

ULD Rob Morris that wins in yon glen, (men, He's the king of good fellows, and wale of auld Has fourfcore of black fheep, and fourfcore too; Auld Rob Morris is the man ye maun loo.

DOUGHTER.

Ha'd your tongue, mither, and let that abee,
For his eild and my eild can never agree:
They'll never agree, and that will be feen;
For he is fourfcore, and I'm but fifteen.

MITHE R.

Ha'd your tongue, daughter, and lay by your pride,
For he's be the bridegroom, and ye's be the bride:
He fhall ly by your fide, and kifs ye too.
Auld Rob Morris is the man ye maun loo.

DOUGHTER.

Auld Rob Morris I ken him fou weel,
His A- it fticks out like ony peet-creel,
He's out-fhinn'd, in-kneed, and ringle-ey'd too 3
Auld Rob Morris is the man I'll ne'er loo.

MITHE R.

'Tho' auld Rob Morris be an elderly man,
Yet his auld brass it will buy a new pan;
Then, doughter, ye fhouldna be fo ill to fhoo,
For auld Rob Morris is the man ye maun loo.

DOUGH