Wi' hand on haunch, an' upward ee,
He croon'd' his gamut, one, two, three,
Then, in an arioso key,
The wee Apollo
Set off, wi' allegretto glee,
His giga solo.
TUNE-Whistle owre the lave o't.
LET me ryke up to dight3 that tear,
An' go wi' me an' be my dear;
An' then your every care and fear
May whistle owre the lave o't.
I am a fiddler to my trade,
An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd,
The sweetest still to wife or maid,
Was "Whistle owre the lave o't.”
At kirns' and weddings we 'se be there,
And oh sae nicely 's we will fare!
We'll bouse about till daddie Care
Sings "Whistle owre the lave o't."
I am, &c.
Sae merrily 's the banes we'll pyke,3
And sun oursels about the dyke,
And at our leisure, when ye like,
We'll whistle owre the lave o't.
I am, &c.
But bless me wi' your heaven o' charms,
And while I kittle hair on thairms,"
Hunger, cauld, and a' sic harms,
May whistle owre the lave o't.
I am, &c.
Her charms had struck a sturdy caird,'
As weel as poor gut-scraper;
He taks the fiddler by the beard,
And draws a rusty rapier:
1 Hummed.-2 Use my power, or best endeavors.-3 Wipe, cr clean.Harvest suppers.-5 The bones we 'll pick.-6 Tickle hair on guts; La play on the violin.-7 Tinker.
He swore by a' was swearing worth,
To spit him like a pliver,1
Unless he would from that time forth
Relinquish her forever.
Wi' ghastly ee, poor tweedle-dee
Upon his hunkers' bended,
And pray'd for grace wi' ruefu' face,
And sae the quarrel ended.
But though his little heart did grieve
When round the tinker press'd her,
He feign'd to snirtle3 in his sleeve,
When thus the caird address'd her:
TUNE-Clout the Cauldron.
My bonnie lass, I work in brass,
A tinkler is my station;
I've travell'd round all Christian ground,
In this my occupation;
I've taen the gold, I've been enroll'd
In many a noble squadron;
But vain they search'd, when off I march'd
To go and clout the cauldron.
I've taen the gold &c.
Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp,
Wi' a' his noise and cap'rin',
And take a share wi' those that bear
The budget and the apron:
And by that stowp,5 my faith and houp,
And by that dear Kilbagie,
If e'er ye want or meet wi' scant,
May I ne'er weet my craigie!"
And by that stowp, &c.
The caird prevail'd-the unblushing fair
In his embraces sunk,
Partly wi' love o'ercome sae sair,
And partly she was drunk.
1 Spit him like a plover.-2 The hams, or hinder part of the thighs.-3 To laugh.-4 To mend kettles or cauldrons.-5 A jug.- Whisky, so called from
a celebrated distillery.-7 Throat.-8 Sore.
Sir Violino, with an air
That show'd a man o' spunk,
Wish'd unison between the pair,
And made the bottle clunk'
To their health that night.
But urchin Cupid shot a shaft,
That play'd a dame a shavie,2
The fiddler raked her fore and aft,
Behind the chicken cavie.$
Her lord, a wight o' Homer's craft,*
Though limping wi' the spavie,
He hirpled up, and lap like daft,7
And shored them Dainty Davie
O' boot' that night.
He was a care-defying blade
As ever Bacchus listed,
Though Fortune sair upon him laid,
His heart she ever miss'd it.
He had no wish-but to be glad,
Nor want-but when he thirsted;
He hated naught—but to be sad,
And thus the Muse suggested
His sang that night.
TUNE-For a' that, an' a' that.
I AM a bard of no regard,
Wi' gentle-folks, an a' that;
But Homer-like, the glowrin' byke,1o
Frae town to town I draw that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as muckle's a' that,
I've lost but ane, I've twa behin',
I've wife enough for a' that.
I never drank the Muses stank,"
Castalia's burn," and a' that';
1 To gurgle in the manner of a bottle when emptying.—2 A trick.—3 A pen, or coop.-4 Homer is allowed to be the oldest ballad-singer on record."Spavin.- Limped.-7 Leaped as if he was mad.-8 Offered.-9 To boot.10 Staring crowd.-11 A standing pool of water.-12 Rivulet.
But there it reams,' and richly streams,
My Helicon I ca' that.
For a' that, &c.
Great love I bear to a' the fair,
Their humble slave, and a' that;
But lordly will I hold it still
A mortal sin to thraw that.
For a' that, &c.
In raptures sweet, this hour we meet,
Wi' mutual love, and a' that;
But for how lang the flie may stang,
Let inclination law that.
Their tricks and craft hae put me daft,"
They've taen me in, and a' that;
But clear your decks, and-Here's the sex!
I like the jads for a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
And twice as muckle's a' that,
My dearest blude to do them gude,
They're welcome till 't for a' that.
So sung the bard-and Nansie's wa's
Shook with a thunder of applause,
Re-echo'd from each mouth:
They toom'd their pocks, they pawn'd their duds,
They scarcely left to co'er their fuds,"
To quench their lowan" drouth.
Then owre again the jovial thrang
The poet did request,
To lowse his pack, and wale a sang,
A ballad o' the best;
He, rising, rejoicing
Between his twa Deborahs,
Looks round him, and found them
Impatient for the chorus.
Froths, or foams.-2 To contradict.—3 Sting.—4 Rule, or govern.-5 Mad, vexed. To it.-7 Emptied their bags. Rags. Cover their tails.
TUNE-Jolly mortals, fill your glasses.
SEE the smoking bowl before us!
Mark our jovial ragged ring!
Round and round take up the chorus,
And in raptures let us sing:
A fig for those by law protected,
Liberty's a glorious feast!
Courts for cowards were erected,
Churches built to please the priest.
What is title ? what is treasure?
What is reputation's care?
If we lead a life of pleasure,
'Tis no matter how or where.
A fig, &c.
With the ready trick and fable,
Round we wander all the day;
And at night, in barn or stable,
Hug our doxies on the hay.
A fig, &c. .
Does the train-attended carriage
Through the country lighter rove?
Does the sober bed of marriage
Witness brighter scenes of love?
A fig, &c.
Life is all a variorum,
We regard not how it goes;
Let them cant about decorum
Who have characters to lose.
A fig, &c.
Here's to budgets, bags, and wallets!
Here's to all the wandering train!
Here's our ragged brats' and callets!"
One and all cry out, Amen!
A fig, &c.
1 Clothing in general.-2 A woman's cap made without a border,
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