And by our banners march'd Muirhead, And Buittle was na slack;

Whase haly priesthood nane could stain, For wha could dye the black?

And there was grave squire Cardoness,
Look'd on till a' was done;

Sae in the tower o' Cardoness
A howlet sits at noon.

And there led I the Bushby clan,
My gamesome billie, Will,

And my son Maitland, wise as brave,
My footsteps follow'd still.

The Douglas and the Heron's name,
We set nought to their score;
The Douglas and the Heron's name,
Had felt our weight before.

But Douglasses o' weight had we,
The pair o' lusty lairds,

For building cot-houses sae fam'd,
And christenin' kail-yards.

And then Redcastle drew his sword,
That ne'er was stain'd wi' gore,
Save on a wand'rer lame and blind,
To drive him frae his door.

And last cam creepin Collieston,
Was mair in fear than wrath;
Ae knave was constant in his mind-
To keep that knave frae scaith.

THE SPINNING O'T

Inscription for an altar of Independence,

At Kerroughtree, the Seat of Mr Heron,1

THOU of an independent mind,

With soul resolv'd, with soul resign'd;
Prepar'd Power's proudest frown to brave,
Who wilt not be, nor have a slave;

Virtue alone who dost revere,

Thy own reproach alone dost fear

Approach this shrine, and worship here.

The Cardin o't, the Spinnin o't.2

I COFT a stane o' haslock woo,a
To mak a wab to Johnie o't;

For Johnie is my only jo,b

I loe him best of onie yet.

Chorus-The cardin o't, the spinnin o't,

The warpin o't, the winnin o't;
When ilka ell cost me a groat,
The tailor staw the lynin o't.

For tho' his locks be lyartd grey,
And tho' his brow be belde aboon,
Yet I hae seen him on a day,
The pride of a' the parishen.
The cardin o't, &c.

* fine wool from the sheep's throat.
• stole.
d hoary.

1 Probably of summer 1794, as Mr Scott Douglas argues.

b love. • bald.

2 This has an appearance of antiquity.

The Cooper o' Cuddy.1

Tune-"Bab at the bowster."

Chorus-WE'LL hide the Cooper behint the door,
Behint the door, behint the door,

We'll hide the Cooper behint the door,
And cover him under a mawn,* 0.

The Cooper o' Cuddy came here awa,
He ca'd the girrs out o'er us a';
An' our gudewife has gotten a ca',
That's anger'd the silly gudeman 0.
We'll hide the Cooper, &c.

He sought them out, he sought them in,
Wi' deil hae her! an' deil hae him!
But the body he was sae doited and blin',
He wist na where he was gaun O.
We'll hide the Cooper, &c.

They cooper'd at e'en, they cooper'd at morn,
Till our gudeman has gotten the scorn;
On ilka brow she's planted a horn,

And swears that there they sall stan' O.
We'll hide the Cooper, &c.

The Lass that made the Bed to Me.2

WHEN Januar' wind was blawing cauld,
As to the north I took my way,

The mirksome night did me enfauld,
I knew na whare to lodge till day:

a basket.

b hoops.

1 Scottish humour of the sort common in the Fabliaux.

2 There is a traditional version. The adventure is attributed to Charles II.

c stupid.

before Worcester fight, but in that case the conclusion, of course, is impossible.

I bow'd fu' low unto this maid,
And thank'd her for her courtesie;
I bow'd fu' low unto this maid,

An' bade her make a bed to me;
She made the bed baith large and wide,

Wi' twa white hands she spread it doun;

She put the cup to her rosy lips,

And drank "Young man, now sleep ye soun"."

Chorus-The bonie lass made the bed to me,

The braw lass made the bed to me,
I'll ne'er forget till the day I die,

The lass that made the bed to me.

She snatch'd the candle in her hand,
And frae my chamber went wi' speed;
But I call'd her quickly back again,
To lay some mair below my head:
A cod she laid below my head,
And served me with due respect,
And, to salute her wi' a kiss,

營業

I put my arms about her neck.

The bonie lass, &c.

"Haud aff your hands, young man!" she said,
"And dinna sae uncivil be;

Gif ye hae ony luve for me,

O wrang na my virginitie."

Her hair was like the links o' gowd,
Her teeth were like the ivorie,
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me:
The bonie lass, &c.

Her bosom was the driven snaw,
Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see;
Her limbs the polish'd marble stane,
The lass that made the bed to me.
I kiss'd her o'er and o'er again,

And aye she wist na what to say:
I laid her 'tween me and the wa';
The lassie thocht na lang till day.
The bonie lass, &c.

Upon the morrow when we raise,

I thank'd her for her courtesie;
But aye she blush'd and aye she sigh'd,
And said, "Alas, ye've ruin'd me."
I clasp'd her waist, and kiss'd her syne,
While the tear stood twinkling in her e'e;
I said, my lassie, dinna cry,

For ye aye shall make the bed to me.
The bonie lass, &c.

She took her mither's holland sheets,
An' made them a' in sarks to me;

Blythe and merry may she be,

The lass that made the bed to me.

Chorus-The bonie lass made the bed to me,

The braw lass made the bed to me; I'll ne'er forget till the day I die,

The lass that made the bed to me.