But here, alas! for me nae mair, 1 WILLIE WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT. O WILLIE brew'd a peck o' maut, We are na fou, we're nae that fou, The cock may craw, the day may daw, And ay Here are we met, three merry boys, We are na fou, &c. It It is the moon, I ken her horn, Wha first shall rise to gang awa', THE * Willie, who "brew'd a peck o' maut," was Mr. William Nicol; and Rob and Allan were our poet and his friend Allan Masterton. This meeting took place at LAGGAN, a farm purchased by Mr. Nicol, in Nithsdale, on the recommendation of our bard. These three honest fellows-all men of uncommon talents, are now all under the turf. (1799.) E. THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE. IGAED a waefu' gate, yestreen, I gat my death frae twa sweet een, Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue. She talk'd, she smil'd, my heart she wyl'd, She charm'd my soul I wist na how; And ay But But spare to speak, and spare to speed; THE * The heroine of this song was Miss J****, of Lochmaban. This lady, now Mrs. R*****, after residing some time in Liverpool, is settled with her husband in NewYork, North America. E. |