What though we canna boast of our guineas O, We have plenty of Jockies and Jeanies (); And these I am certain are More desirable by far Than a pock full of yellow steenies O. We've seen many a wonder and ferly O, Both in country and in town, Who now live but scrimply and barely O. Then why should people brag of prosperity O? A straiten'd life we see is no rarity O; Indeed, we've been in want, And our living been but scant, Yet we never were reduced to need charity O. In this house we first came thegither O, It will last us a' our time, And I hope we shall never need anither O. JENNY'S BAWBEE. SIR ALEX. BOSWELL, Bart. I MET four chaps yon birks amang, Quo' he, Ilk cream-faced pawky chiel The first, a captain to his trade, Wi' skull ill-lined, but back weel-clad, March'd round the barn and by the shed, Hey, the dusty miller, Brings the dusty siller FAIRLY SHOT OF HER. From" Johnson's Museum." OH, gin I were fairly shot o' her, If she were dead, I wad dance on the top o' her. Till we were married I couldna see licht till her; Nane o' her relations or friends could stay wi' her; She gangs aye sae braw, she's sae muckle pride in her; If the time were but come that to the kirk-gate wi’ her, I'd then be as bly the as first when I met wi' her- This is a modern version of an old song, and is said to have been written by one John Anderson, at that time apprentice to Johnson the engraver, and publisher of the "Museum," where the song first appeared. WHA wadna be in love Wi' bonnie Maggie Lauder? A piper met her gaun to Fife, And speir'd what was't they ca'd her. Right scornfully she answer'd him, Jog on your gate, you bladderskate! Maggie, quo' he, and by my bags, For I'm a piper to my trade, My name is Rob the Ranter; The lasses loup as they were daft When I blaw up my chanter. Piper, quo' Meg, hae ye your bags, The lasses a', baith far and near, Hae heard o' Rob the Ranter; Then to his bags he flew wi' speed, Weel hae you play'd your part, quo' Meg; "This old song," says Burns, "so pregnant with Scottish naïveté and energy, is much relished by all ranks. Its language is a precious model of imitation,—sly, sprightly, and forcibly expressive. Maggie's tongue wags out the nick-names of Rob the piper with all the careless lightsomeness of unrestrained gaiety." KISSING'S NO SIN. ANONYMOUS. Seventeenth or eighteenth century. SOME say that kissing's a sin; But I think it's nane ava, For kissing has wonn'd in this warld Since ever that there was twa. Oh, if it wasna lawfu', Lawyers wadna allow it; If it wasna holy, Ministers wadna do it. If it wasna modest, Maidens wadna tak' it; If it wasna plenty, Puir folk wadna get it. We are indebted to Mr. Robert Chambers for the preservation of this characteristic fragment. It was recovered by him from the singing of a friend, and first printed in 1829 in his "Historical Essay on Scottish Song." FOR A' THAT. ROBERT BURNS. Is there for honest poverty That hangs his head and a' that? Our toils obscure and a' that; What though on hamely fare we dine, Gi'e fools their silks, an' knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that. For a' that and a' that, Their tinsel show and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, Wha struts and stares and a' that; For a' that and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that; |