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And gie to me my bigonet,

My bishop's satin gown;
For I maun tell the bailie's wife

That Colin's come to town.
My Turkey slippers maun gae on,

My stockings pearly blue;
'Tis aw to pleasure my gudeman,
For he's baith leel and true.

For there's nae luck, &c.

Rise, lass, and mak a clean fire side,

Put on the muckle pot,
Gie little Kate her button gown,

And Jock his Sunday coat;
And mak their shoon as black as slaes,

Their hose as white as snaw,
It's aw to please my ain gudeman,
For he's been lang awa.

For there's nae, &c.

There's twa fat hens upo' the bauk

Been fed this month and mair,
Mak haste and thraw their necks about,

That Colin weel may fare;
And mak the table neat and clean,

Let every thing look braw,
For wha can tell how Colin fared
When he was far awa.



nae, &c.

Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech,

His breath like cauler air, His very foot has music in't

As he comes up the stair!

And shall I see his face again,

And shall I hear him speak!
I'm downright dizzy wi the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet.

For there's nae, &c. [The caul blasts of the winter wind,

That thrilled though my heart,
They're aw blawn by, I hae him safe,

Till death we'll never part:
But why should I of parting tauk,

It may be far awa;
The present moment is our ain,
The neist we never saw*.]

For there's nae, &c.
If Colin's weel, and weel content,

I hae nae mair to crave-
And gin I live to keep him sae,

I'm blest aboon the lave.
And shall I see his face again,

And shall I hear him speak !
I'm downright dizzy wi the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet.
For there's nae, &c.




FUNNY and free are a bachelor's revelries,

Cheerily, merrily passes his life ; Nathing knows he of connubial devilries,

Troublesome children and clamorous wife. • These lines enclosed between brackets were inserted by Dr. Beattie. VOL. III.


Free from satiety, care, and anxiety,

Charms in variety fall to his share; Bacchus's blisses and Venus's kisses,

This, boys, this is the bachelor's fare. A wife, like a canister, chattering, clattering,

Tied to a dog for his torment and dread, All bespattering, bumping, and battering,

Hurries and worries him till he is dead: Old ones are too devils haunted with blue devils,

Young ones are new devils raising despair; Doctors and nurses combining their curses,

Adieu to full purses and bachelor's fare. Through such folly days once sweet holidays

Soon are imbitter'd with wrangling and strife; Wives turn jolly days to melancholy days,

All perplexing and vexing one's life; Children are riotous, maid-servants fly at us,

Mammy to quiet us growls like a bear; Polly is squalling and Molly is bawling,

While dad is recalling his bachelor's fare. When they are older grown, then they are bolder

grown, Turning your temper, and spurning your rule; Girls through foolishness, passion, or mulishness,

Parry your wishes, and marry a fool. Boys will anticipate, lavish, and dissipate

All that your busy pate hoarded with care ; Then tell me what jollity, fun, and frivolity Equals in quality bachelor's fare.


In the rough blast heaves the billow,
In the light air waves the willow;
Every thing of moving kind
Varies with the veering wind;
What have I to do with thee,
Dull unjoyous Constancy?
Sombre tale and satire witty,
Sprightly glee and doleful ditty,
Measured sighs and roundelay,
Welcome all, but do not stay;
For what have I to do with thee,
Dull unjoyous Constancy?


TIME AND LOVE. TIME and Love are ever foes,

Following still a different aim; Where the rosy tyrant glows

Steals old Time and damps the flame,
Angry Love a vengeful blow

Oft inflicts as rage inspires,
And where Time has scatter'd snow

Joys to wake the rebel fires.
Men in every age and clime

Equal still their triumphs prove,
Oft from love forgetting time,
Oft from time forgetting love.


• Sang in the coinedy of Fashionable Friends.


Summer. The soote season that bud and bloom forth brings

With green hath clad the bill and eke the vale: The nightingall with fethers new she sings;

The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come: for every spray now springs.

The bart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake bis winter coat he flings;

The fishes fleete with new-repayred scale; The adder all her slough away she flinges;

The swift swallów pursueth the flies smálle ; The busy bee her honey how she minges !

Winter is worne that was the floures bale. And thus I see among these pleasant things Each care decays; and yet my sorrow springs.


New yeare, forth looking out of Ianus gate,
Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight;
And bidding the old adieu, his passed date
Bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright:
And, calling forth out of sad Winters night
Fresh Love, that long bath slept in cheerlesse

Wils him awake, and soone about him dight
His wanton wings and darts of deadly power.
For lusty Spring now in his timely howre
Is ready to come forth, him to receive;
And warns the Earth with divers colord flowre
To decke hir selfe, and her faire mantle weave.
Then you, faire flowre! in whom fresh youth doth
Prepare your selfe new love to entertaine. [raine,


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