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Yestreen at the valentines' dealing,
My heart to my mou' gied a sten'";
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written "Tam Glen" !

The last Halloween I was waukin b
My droukit sark-sleeve,1 as ye ken,
His likeness came up the house staukin,
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!

Come, counsel, dear tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie ye my bonie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

Carle, an the King Come.2

Chorus.-Carle,d an the King come,
Carle, an the King come,
Thou shalt dance and I will sing,
Carle, an the King come.

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THERE'S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
That he from our lassies should wander awa';
For he's bonie and braw, weel-favor'd witha',
An' his hair has a natural buckled an' a'.

His coat is the hue o' his bonnet sae blue,

His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw;
His hose they are blae,' and his shoon like the slac,"
And his clear siller buckles, they dazzle us a'.

For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin;
Weel-featur'd, weel-tocher'd, weel-mounted an' braw;
But chiefly the siller that gars him gang till her,
The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'.

There's Meg wi the mailen1 that fain wad a haen' him,
And Susie, wha's daddie was laird o' the Ha';
There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his fancy,
But the laddie's dear sel', he loes dearest of a'.

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Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Sweet and harmless as a child-1
Wiser men than me's beguil'd;
Whistle o'er the lave o't!

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love, and how we gree,
I care na by how few may see—
Whistle o'er the lave o't!
Wha I wish were maggot's meat,
Dish'd up in her winding-sheet,
I could write-but Meg maun see't—
Whistle o'er the lave o't!

My Eppie Adair.2

Chorus.-AN' O my Eppie, my jewel, my Eppie,
Wha wad na be happy wi' Eppie Adair?

By love, and by beauty, by law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to my Eppie Adair!
By love, and by beauty, by law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to my Eppie Adair!
And O my Eppie, &c.

A' pleasure exile me, dishonour defile me,
If e'er I beguile ye, my Eppie Adair!
A' pleasure exile me, dishonour defile me,
If e'er I beguile thee, my Eppie Adair!
And O my Eppie, &c.

Epigram on Francis Grose the Antiquary.

THE Devil got notice that Grose was a-dying,
So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying;

⚫ do not care.

1 Var. "Bonny Meg was Nature's child."

2 Words for music.

3 Burns met this fat antiquary at Mr Riddell's house.


But when he approached where poor Francis lay moaning,
And saw each bed-post with its burthen a-groaning,
Astonish'd, confounded, cries Satan-"By G-
I'll want him ere take such a damnable load!"

• advise.

On the late Captain Grose's

Peregrinations thro' Scotland, collecting the
Antiquities of that Kingdom.1

HEAR, land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk2 to Johnie Groat's3 ;-
If there's a hole in a' your coats,

I rede you tent it:

A chield's amang you takin notes,
And faith he'll prent it:

If in your bounds ye chance to light
Upon a fine, fat, fodgeld wight,
O'stature short, but genius bright,
That's he, mark weel;

And wow! he has an unco sleight®
O' cauk and keel.'

By some auld, houlet-haunted biggin,84
Or kirk deserted by its riggin,h

It's ten to ane ye'll find him snug in

Some eldritch1 part,

Wi' deils, they say, L-d save's! colleaguin

a uncommon skill,

b look to.

At some black art.

c fellow.

d plump.

fwhite and red chalk (for drawing). 8 owl-haunted building.
h roof.
1 uncanny.

1 After many snatches of song, and experiments in English, Burns comes back to his true manner.

2 For Kirkmaiden, in Wigtonshire,

the most southerly parish in Scotland. 8 In Caithness.

4 Vide his Antiquities of Scotland.— R. B., 1793.

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Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha' or chaumer,
Ye gipsy-gang that deal in glamour,
And you, deep-read in hell's black grammar,
Warlocks and witches,

Ye'll quake at his conjuring hammer,
Ye midnight bitches.

It's tauld he was a sodger bred,
And ane wad rather fa'na than fled;
But now he's quat the spurtle-blade,b
And dog-skin wallet,

And taen the-Antiquarian trade,
I think they call it.

He has a foutho o' auld nick-nackets :
Rusty airnd caps and jinglin jackets,1
Wad haud the Lothians three in tackets,'
A towmonts gude;

And parritch-pats" and auld saut-backets,1
Before the flood.

Of Eve's first fire he has a cinder;
Auld Tubalcain's fire-shool and fender;
That which distinguished the gender
O' Balaam's ass:

A broomstick o' the witch of Endor,
Weel shod wi' brass.

Forbye, he'll shape you aff fu' gleg1
The cut of Adam's philibeg;
The knife that nickit Abel's craig"
He'll prove you fully,

It was a faulding jocteleg,


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Or lang-kail gullie.P

quitted the sword.

f shoe-nails.

J fire-shovel.

n cut Abel's throat.

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1 Vide his treatise on ancient armour and weapons.-R. B., 1798,

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