Bell my wife she lo’es nae strife,
But she would guide me if she can ;
And to maintain an easy life,

I aft maun yield, though I'm gudeman.
Nocht's to be gain'd at woman's hand,
Unless ye gi'e her a' the plea:
Then I'll leave aff where I began,

And tak' my auld cloak about me.

This is one of the most ancient Scottish songs extant. That it was known to Shakspeare in its English garb is evident from his having quoted the antepenultimate stanza in the second act of "Othello." The English version appears in Percy's "Reliques." It differs from the Scottish in some respects, but not materially; and Percy evidently inclines to admit that the Scottish is the original version. Scottish version appears to have been first published in a complete form by Allan Ramsay, in the "Tea-Table Miscellany."

The

WIDOW, ARE YE WAUKIN ?

ALLAN RAMSAY. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany."
"OH, wha's that at my chamber-door ?"
“Fair widow, are ye waukin ?”
"Auld carle, your suit give o'er,
Your love lies a' in talking.
Gi'e me a lad that's young and tight,
Sweet like an April meadow;
'Tis sic as he can bless the sight
And bosom of a widow."

"O widow, wilt thou let me in?
I'm pawky, wise, and thrifty,
And come of a right gentle kin—
I'm little mair than fifty."

"Daft carle, ye may dicht your mouth;

What signifies how pawky

Or gentle-born ye be, bot youth,
In love you're but a gawky."

"Then, widow, let these guineas speak,

That powerfully plead clinkan;
And if they fail, my mouth I'll steek,
And nae mair love will think on.'

"These court indeed, I maun confess;
I think they make you young, sir,
And ten times better can express
Affection than your tongue, sir."

HOW, WANTON WIDOW!

"How, wanton widow,
Are ye waukin yet?
Hey, wanton widow,
Are ye waukin yet?"
Quoth the widow to the man,

"Ye may come in an' see.”
Quoth the man to the widow,
"Will ye marry me?"

Quoth the widow to the man,
I maun think awhile;

Ye hae spoken o'er rash,

For me first to tell;
But if ye be kindly,

We yet may agree."

Quoth the man to the widow,

"Ye maun marry me."

This song, somewhat similar in character to the one preceding, has been recovered from tradition, and preserved in the manuscript copy of the ancient songs of the north of Scotland collected by the late Peter Buchan.

JOCKEY FOU, JENNY FAIN.

From the "Tea-Table Miscellany," 1724. Air-"Jockey fou."

JOCKEY fou, Jenny fain,

Jenny was na ill to gain;

She was couthie, he was kind,

And thus the wooer tell'd his mind:

Jenny, I'll nae mair be nice,

Gi'e me love at ony price;
I winna prig for red or white-
Love alane can gi'e delyte.

N

Others seek they kenna what,
In looks, in carriage, and a' that;
Gi'e me love for her I court-
Love in love makes a' the sport.

Let love sparkle in her ee,
Let her love nae man but me;
That's the tocher-gude I prize,
There the lover's treasure lies.

Colours mingled unco fine,
Common notions lang sinsyne,
Never can engage my love,

Until my fancy first approve.

Allan Ramsay inserted this song in his "Miscellany " with the signature Q, to signify that it was old, with additions by himself. The air is also very ancient.

In the mornin' sune, when I cam' doun,
The ne'er a word she spake,

But mony a sad and sour look,

And aye her head she'd shake.
"My dear," quo' I, "what aileth thee,
To look sae sour on me?

I'll never do the like again,

If you'll ne'er tak' the gee.”

When that she heard, she ran, she flang
Her arms, about my neck,
And twenty kisses in a crack
And, poor wee thing, she grat
"If you'll ne'er do the like again,
But bide at hame wi' me,

I'll lay my life, I'll be the wife
That never taks the gee."

THE MILLER.

SIR JOHN CLERK, of Pennycuick, Bart.; born about the year 1680, died 1755. From the Charmer," Edinburgh, 1751.

MERRY

may the maid be

That marries the miller,
For foul day and fair day

He's aye bringing till her ;
He's aye a penny in his purse

For dinner and for supper;
And gin she please, a good fat cheese,
And lumps of yellow butter.

When Jamie first did woo me,

I spier'd what was his calling :
Fair maid, says he, oh, come and see;
Ye're welcome to my dwelling.
Though I was shy, yet I could spy
The truth of what he told me,

And that his house was warm and couth,
And room in it to hold me.

Behind the door a bag of meal,
And in the kist was plenty

Of good hard cakes his mither bakes,
And bannocks were na scanty;
A good fat sow, a sleeky cow

Was standin' in the byre;

Whilst lazy puss, with mealy mous,
Was playing at the fire.

Good signs are these, my mither says,

And bids me tak' the miller;

For foul day and fair day

He's aye bringing till her:

For meal and malt she does na want,
Nor ony thing that's dainty ;
And now and then a keckling hen
To lay her eggs in plenty.

In winter, when the wind and rain
Blaws o'er the house and byre,
He sits beside a clean hearthstane
Before a rousing fire;

With nut-brown ale he tells his tale,
Which rows him o'er fu' nappy:

Who'd be a king-a petty thing,

When a miller lives so happy?

This song originally appeared in the "Charmer" without the concluding stanza. It was afterwards added by the author, at that time one of the Scottish judges.

ARGYLL IS MY NAME.

JOHN Duke of Argyll and Greenwich, born 1680, died 1743.

ARGYLL is my name, and you may think it strange
To live at a court, yet never to change;

A' falsehood and flattery I do disdain,

In

my secret thoughts nae guile does remain.
My king and my country's foes I have faced,
In city or battle I ne'er was disgraced ;
I do every thing for my country's weal,
And feast upon bannocks o' barley meal.