And now tho' I must beg with a wooden arm and leg, callet, What tho' with hoary locks, I must stand the winter shocks, Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home, When the tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle tell, I could meet a troop of hell, at the sound of a drum. Lal de daudle, &c. RECITATIVO. He ended; and the kebars sheuk, Aboon the chorus roar ; While frighted rattons backward leuk, A fairy fiddler frae the neuk, AIR. Tune-" Soldier Laddie." I ONCE was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when, And still my delight is in proper young men ; Sing, Lal de lal, &c. The first of my loves was a swaggering blade, Sing, Lal de lal, &c. But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch, 'Twas then I prov'd false to my sodger laddie. Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot, The regiment at large for a husband I got; From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready, I asked no more but a sodger laddie. Sing, Lal de lal, &c. But the peace it reduc'd me to beg in despair, Sing, Lal de lal, &c. And now I have liv'd-I know not how long, And still I can join in a cup and a song ; But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady, Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie. Sing, Lal de lal, &c. RECITATIVO. Poor Merry Andrew in the neuk, AIR. Tune-" Auld Sir Symon." Sir Wisdom's a fool when he's fou, My grannie she bought me a beuk, I fear I my talent misteuk, But what will ye hae of a fool? For drink I would venture my neck, I ance, was ty'd up like a stirk, For civilly swearing and quaffing ; I ance, was abus'd in the kirk, For touzling a lass i' my daffin. Poor Andrew that tumbles for sport, Observ'd ye, yon reverend lad And now my conclusion I'll tell, For faith I'm confoundedly dry; The chiel that's a fool for himsel', Gude L-d! he's far dafter than I. RECITATIVO. Then neist outspak a raucle carlin, For monie a pursie she had hooked, AIR. Tune-" O an ye were dead, guidman.” A Highland lad my love was born, But he still was faithfu' to his clan, CHORUS. Sing, hey my braw John Highlandman ! Was match for my John Highlandman. With his philibeg an' tartan plaid, An' gude claymore down by his side, My gallant braw John Highlandman. We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey, They banish'd him beyond the sea, |