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An' if ilk wish turn out a wean,

There's little fear that we hae nine."

Now Nelly thought, an' aye she leugh,

“ Our lads are a' fór sogers gane ; Young Tam will kiss an' toy enengh,

But he o' marriage talketh nane. When I am laid in Johnnie's bed,

Like hares or lav'rocks I'll be free; I'll busk me braw an' conquer a'

Auld Johnnie's just the man for me."

Wi' little say he wan the day,

She soon became his bonny bride ; But ilka joy is fled away

Frae Johnnie's canty ingle side. She frets an' greets, an' visits aft,

In hopes some lad will see her hame; But never ane will be sae daft

As tent auld Johnnie's flisky dame.

An' John will be a gaishen soon ;

His teeth are frae their sockets flown ; The hair peel'd aff his head aboon;

His face is milk-an'-water grown: His legs, that firm like pillars stood,

Are now grown toom an' unco sma'; She's reay'd him sair o’ flesh an' blood,

An' peace o' mind-the warst ava.

Let ilka lassie tak a man,

An' ilka callan tak a wife;
But youth wi' youth gae hand in hand,

Or tine the sweetest joys o’ life,
Ye men wha's heads are turnin' gray,

Wha to the grave are hastin' on,
Let reason aye your passion sway,

An' mind the fate o' Ettrick John.

An'a' ye lasses plump and fair,

Let pure affection guide your hand,
Nor stoop to lead a life o' care,
Wi' wither'd age,

for gear or land.
When ilka lad your beauty slights,

An' ilka smile shall yield to wae, Ye'll mind the lang an' lanesome nights

O'Nell, the lassie o' the brae.

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TUNE-Tow row row.

I was a weaver, young an' free,

Sae frank an' cheery aye to meet wi', Until wi' ane unwary e'e

I view'd the charms o’ Bonny Beety.

Lack a day!
Far away
Will I gae,
If I lose her.

“I tauld her I had got a wound

Through sark an’ waistcoat frae her sweet e'e;
She said it ne'er should do't again,
An' off like lightning flew my Beety.

Luckless day!
May I say,
When my way
Led to Beety.

“ Ae day she cam wi' hanks o' yarn,

When wi' my wark my face was sweety ;
She said I was a chrieshy thief,
An' ne'er should get a kiss o' Beety.

O ho, ho, hon!
Now I'm gone,
Love has pro'en
A weaver's ruin.

“She laughs at me an' at my loom,

An' wi' the herd has made a treaty;
But wae light on this clouted shoon,
How durst he e'er attempt my Beety?

O how blind,
Eyes an' mind,

Are to their profit!

“But by my shuttle now I swear,

An' by the beam, if Wattie meet me,
I'll cut his throat frae ear to ear-
I'll lose my life or gain my Beety,

Blood an' guts!
Jades an sluts!
I'll lose my wits,
If I lose Beety."

Thus sang the weaver at his wark,

An' wi' pure grief was like to greet aye,
When Charlie brought a letter ben,
He thought he ken’d his Beety.

Happy day,
Did he say,
When my way
Led to Beety.

He read—“Dear sir, my wedding-day

Is Friday neist, an' you maun meet me,
To wish me joy, an' drink my health,
An' dine wi' me-your servant Beety."

* O ho, hon
Now I'm gone,
Love has pro'en
A weaver's ruin.

He raise-sat down-an' raise again

Ask'd Charlie if the day was sleety;
Then through his head he popp'd the lead,
An' died a fool for love o' Beety.

The web is red,
Beety's wed,
Will is dead,
An' all is over.



Tune-Andrew wi' his cutty Gun.

BLYTHLY hae I screw'd my pipes,

An' blythly play'd the lee-lang day, An' blyther been wi' bonny Bess

Ayont the mow amang the hay. When first I saw the bonny face

O Bessie, bloomin' in her teens, She wyl'd away this heart o' mine,

An' ca'd it fou o corkin' preens.

" At e'en when a’ the lave gae lie,

An' grannie steeks her waukrife e'e, Steal out when I the winnock tap,

Ahint the ha' I'll meet wi' thee."

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