Chorus.-Bonie wee thing, canniewee thing, Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wadwear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine. Wishfully I look and languish In that bonie face o' thine, And my heart it stounds wi'anguish, Lest my wee thing be namine. Bonie wee thing, &c. Wit, and Grace, and Love,

O saw ye my dearie, my Eppie Macnab? O sawye my dearie, my Eppie Macnab? She's down in the yard, she's kissin the laird, She winnacome hameto her ain Jock Rab. O come thy ways to me, my Eppie Macnab; O come thy ways to me, my Eppie Macnab; Whate'er thou hast dune, be it

O sad and heavy, should I part, But for her sake, sae far awa; Unknowing what my way may thwart, My native land sae far awa. Thou that of a'things Maker art, That formed this Fair sae far awa, Giebodystrength, then I'll ne'er start At this my way sae far awa. How true is love

O Meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty, And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin; But little thinks my luve I kenbrawlie My tocher's the jewel has charms for him. It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree, It's a'for the hinny he'll cherish the bee, My laddie's sae meiklein luve wi' the

The noble Maxwells and their powers Are coming o'er the border, And they'll gaebigTerreagles' towers And setthem a' in order. And they declare Terreagles fair, For their abode they choose it; There's noa heart in a'the land But's lighter at the news o't. Tho' stars in skies may disappear, And angry tempests gather; The happy

Chorus.-An' O for ane an' twenty, Tam! And hey, sweet ane an' twenty, Tam! I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang, An' I saw ane an' twenty, Tam. They snoolme sair, and haudme down, An' garme look like bluntie, Tam; Butthree short years will soon wheel roun', An' then comes ane an' twenty, Tam. An'

O Kenmure's on and awa, Willie, O Kenmure's on and awa: An'Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord That ever Galloway saw. Success to Kenmure's band, Willie! Success to Kenmure's band! There's noa heart that fears a Whig, That rides bykenmure's hand. Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie! Here's Kenmure's health in wine! There's ne'er a coward

O may, thy morn was ne'er so sweet As the mirknight o' December! For sparkling was the rosy wine, And private was the chamber: And dear was she I dare na name, But I will aye remember: And dear was she I dare na name, ButI will aye remember. And here's to them that, like

Thou, Liberty, thou art my theme; Not such as idle poets dream, Who trick thee up a heathen goddess That a fantastic cap and rod has; Such stale conceits are poor and silly; I paint thee out, a Highland filly, A sturdy, stubborn, handsome dapple, As sleek's a mouse, as round's anapple, That when thou