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SONG XLV.

O FOR ANE AND TWENTY, TAM !

AIR, THE MOUDIEWORT.

I.

An' 0, for ane and twenty, Tam !

An hey, sweet ane and twenty, Tum ! I'll learn my kin a rattlin sang,

An I saw ane and twenty, Tam.

They snool me sair, and haud me down,

And gar me look like bluntie, Tam; But three short years will soon wheel roun', And then comes ane and twenty, Tam.

An O, for ane, 8c.

II.
A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,

Was left me by my auntie, Tam;
And kith or kin I need na spier,
An I saw ane and twenty, Tam.

An O, for ane, &c.

III.
They 'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,

Tho' I mysel hae plenty, Tam;
But hear'st thou, laddie, there's my loof,
I'm thine at ane and twenty, Tam !

An O, for ane, &c.

SONG XLVI.

O LEEZE ME ON MY SPINNING WHEEL.

AIR.-DAINTIE DAVIE.

1.

O LEEZE me on my spinnin wheel,
O leeze me on my rock and reel ;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me fiel and warm at e'en !
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, and milk and meal-
O leeze me on my spinnin wheel.

II.
On ilka hand the burnies trot,
And meet below my theekit cot;
The scented birk and hawthorn white
Across the pool their arms unite,

Alike to screen the birdie's nest,
And little fishes caller rest:
The sun blinks kindly in the biel',
Where, blythe I turn my spinnin wheel.

III.
On lofty aiks the cushats wail,
And echo cons the dolefu' tale;
The lintwhites in the hazel braes,
Delighted, rival ither's lays:
The craik amang the claver hay,
The paitrick whirrin o'er the ley,
The swallow jinkin round my shiel,
Amuse me at my spinnin wheel.

IV.
Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,
Aboon distress, below envy,
O wha wad leave this humble state,
For a' the pride of a' the great ?
Amid their flairing, idle toys,
Amid their cumbrous, dinsome joys,
Can they the peace and pleasure feel
Of Bessy at her spinnin wbeel!

SONG XLVII.

IN SIMMER WHEN THE HAY, &c.

AIR.---JOHN, COME KISS ME NOW.

1.

In simmer when the hay was mawn,

And corn way'd green in ilka field, While claver blooms white o'er the lea,

And roses blaw in ilka bield; Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel,

Says, I'll be wed come o't what will } Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild,

O'gude advisement comes nae ill.

II.
Its ye hae wooers mony ane,

And lassie ye're but young, ye ken; Then wait a wee, and canie wale,

A routhie butt, a routhie ben:

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