5 ΙΟ 15 JOHN SKINNER TULLOCHGORUM COME, gie's a sang, Montgomery cried, What signifies't for folks to chide For what's been done before them? Let Whig and Tory all agree To spend this night with mirth and glee, The reel of Tullochgorum. And mak a cheerfu' quorum. As lang as we hae breath to draw, There need nae be sae great a fraise They're dowf and dowie at the best, Compared wi' Tullochgorum. Let warldly minds themselves oppress Wi' keeping up decorum. Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, Like auld Philosophorum? Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, 20 25 30 35 40 45 Wi' neither sense nor mirth, nor wit, 50 55 60 65 70 Nor ever rise to shake a fit May choicest blessings ay attend. And a' that's good watch o'er him And dainties, a great store o' 'em! But for the discontented fool, And discontent devour him! And nane say, Wae's me for 'im! The reel of Tullochgorum! LADY ANNE BARNARD AULD ROBIN GRAY WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, when the kye's come hame, And a' the weary warld to rest are gane, The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my ee, Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride, But saving ae crown-piece he had naething beside; He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day, away; My mither she fell sick my Jamie was at sea, And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me. My father couldna wark — my mither couldna spin ΙΟ I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears in his 15 ee, Said: 'Jeanie, O for their sakes, will ye no marry me?' My heart it said na, and I looked for Jamie back, But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack, His ship was a wrack - why didna Jamie die, 20 Or why am I spared to cry wae is me? . My father urged me sair - my mither didna speak, But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break; They gied him my hand my heart was in the sea And so Robin Gray he was guidman to me. 25 I hadna been his wife a week but only four, I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he, Till he said: 'I'm come hame, love, to marry thee!' Oh, sair sair did we greet, and mickle say of a', 30 I gied him ae kiss, and bade him gang awa' I wish that I were dead, but I'm na like to die, For, though my heart is broken, I'm but young, wae is me! I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin, |