Ithers seek they kennawhat, Features, carriage, and a' that; Gieme love in her I court, Love to love maks a'the sport. Let love sparkle in her e'e; Let her lo'e naeman butme; That's the tocher-gudeI prize, There the luver's treasure lies.

"Whare live ye, my bonielass? And tell me what they ca'ye;" "My name," she says, "is mistress Jean, And I follow the Collier laddie." "My name, she says, &c. "See you not yonhills and dales The sun shines on sae brawlie; They a' are mine, and they shall be thine, Gin ye'll leave your Collier

Chorus-O can ye labour lea, young man, O can ye labour lea? It fee nor bountithshall us twine Ginye can labour lea. I fee'd a man at Michaelmas, Wi'airlepennies three; But a'the fautI had to him, He could nalabour lea, O can ye labour lea, &c. O clappin's gudein Febarwar, An' kissin's sweet in May;

O sawye bonie Lesley, As she gaedo'er the Border? She's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love buther for ever; For Nature made her what she is, And never made anither! Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects, we before thee; Thou art divine,

There was a wife wonn'd in Cockpen, Scroggam; She brew'd gudeale for gentlemen; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum. The gudewife's dochterfell in a fever, Scroggam; The priest o' the parish he fellin anither; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum. They laid the

Willie Wastle dwalton Tweed, The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabstergude, Could stowna clue wi' ony body: He had a wife was dour and din, O TinklerMaidgie was her mither; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad nagie a button for her! She has ane'e, she has but ane, The cat

In simmer, when the hay was mawn, And corn wav'd green in ilka field, While claverblooms white o'er the lea And roses blawin ilka beild! Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel, Says-"I'll be wed, come o'twhat will": Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild; "O' gudeadvisement comes nae ill. "It's ye hae wooers mony ane,

The deilcamfiddlin' thro' the town, And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman, And ilka wife cries, "Auld Mahoun, I wish you luck o'the prize, man." Chorus-The deil's awa, the deil's awa, The deil's awa wi' the Exciseman, He's danc'd awa, he's danc'd awa, He's danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman. We'll makour maut, and we'll brew our

The bairns gatout wi'anuncoshout, The deuks dango'er my daddie, O! The fien-ma-care, quo'the feirrie auld wife, He was but a paidlin' body, O! He paidles out, and he paidles in, rn' he paidles late and early, O! This seven langyears I hae lienbyhis side, An'he is but a fusionlesscarlie, O. O haud your tongue, my