No more of your guests, be they titled ornot, And cookery the first in the nation; Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit, Is proof to all other temptation.

Whom will you send to London town, To Parliament and a' that? Or wha in a' the country round The best deserves to fa' that? For a' that, and a' that, Thro' Galloway and a' that, Where is the Lairdorbelted Knight The best deserves to fa' that? Wha sees Kerroughtree's open yett, (And wha is't

Cauld is the e'enin blast, O'Boreas o'er the pool, An'dawin' it is dreary, When birks are bare at Yule. Cauldblaws the e'enin blast, When bitter bites the frost, And, in the mirkand dreary drift, The hills and glens are lost: Ne'er saemurky blew the night That drifted o'er the hill, ButboniePeg-a-Ramsay Gatgrist to her mill.

O had the malt thy strength of mind, Orhops the flavour of thy wit, 'Twere drink for first of human kind, A gift that e'enfor Syme were fit.

O that I had ne'er been married, I wadnever had naecare, Now I've gottenwife an' weans, An'they cry "Crowdie" evermair. Chorus-Ance crowdie, twice crowdie, Three times crowdie in a day Ginye crowdie ony mair, Ye'll crowdiea'my meal away. Waefu' Want and Hunger fleyme, Glowrin' bythe hallanen'; SairI fechtthem at the door, Butaye I'm eeriethey come