Is this a time to ta'k o' wark,
When Colin's at the door?

Gie me my cloak, I'll to the quay,
And see him come ashore.

For there's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck ava;

There's little pleasure in the house,
When our gudeman's awa.

Rise up and mak a clean fireside,
Put on the meikle pot;

Gie little Kate her cotton gown,
And Jock his Sunday coat;
And mak their shoon as black as slaes,
Their hose as while as snaw:
Its a' to please my ain gudeman,
For he's been lang awa.

For there's nae luck, &c.

There are twa hens upon the bank,
They've fed this month and mair;
Mak haste, and thraw their necks about,
That Colin weel may fare:

And spread the table neat and clean,
Gar ilka thing look braw;

Its a' for love o' my gudeman,

For he's been lang awa.

For there's nae luck, &c.

O gie me down my bigonets,

My bishop satin gown;

For I maun tell the Bailie's wife,
That Colin's come to town;

My Sunday's shoon they waun gae on,
My hose o' pearly blue,

Its a' to please my ain gudeman,
For he's baith leal and true.

For there's nae luck, &c.

Sae true's his word, sae smooth's his speech,
His breath's like caller air,
His very foot has music in't,
When he comes up the stair.
And will I see his face again?
And will I hear him speak?
I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought;
In troth I'm like to greet.

There's nae luck, &c.

The cauld blasts of the winter wind,
That thrilled through my heart,
They're a' blawn by, i bae him safe,
Till death we'll ne'er part;

But what pits parting in my head?
It may be far awa;

The present moment is our ain,

The niest we never saw.

For there's nae luck, &c.

Since Colin's weel, I'm weel content,
I hae nae mair to crave;
Could I but live to mak him blest,
I'm blest aboon the lave;

And will I see his face again?
And will I hear him speak?

I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought;
In troth I'm like to greet.

For there's nae luck, &c.

THE LASS O' GOWRIE.

Upon a simmer afternoon,

A wee before the sun gaed down,
My lassie in braw new gown,

Cam o'er the hills to Gowrie.

The rose bud ting'd with morning show'r Blooms fresh within the sunny bow'r; But Katie was the fairest flower

That ever bloom'd in Gowrie.

Nae thought had I to do her wrang,
But round her waist my arms
And said, My dearie, will ye gang

flang,

To see the Carse o' Gowrie ?
I'll take ye to my father's ba',
In yon green fields beside the shaw;
I'll mak you lady o' them a',
The brawest wife in Gowrie.

A silken gown o' siller grey,
My mither colt last new year's day,
And buskit me frae tap to tae,
To keep me out o' Gowrie.

Daft Will, short syne, came courting Nell,
And wan the lass, but what befel,

Or whar she's gane, she kens hersel,
She staid na lang in Gowrie.

She staid na lang in Gowrie.

Sic thoughts, dear Katie, ill combine,
Wi' beauty rare, and wit like thine;
Except yourself my bonnie queen,
I care for nought in Gowrie.
Since first I saw you in the sheal,
To you my heart's been true and leal;

The darkest night I fear no de'il
Warlock or witch, in Gowrie.

Saft kisses on her lips I laid,

The blush upon her cheek soon spread;
She whisper'd modestly and said,

O Fate, I'll stay in Gowrie ¡

The auld folks soon gied their consent,
Syne for Mess John they quickly sent,
Wha tied them to their heart's content,
And now she's Lady Gowrie.

AMO AMAS.

Amo Amas, I love a lass,

As a cedar tall and slender,

Sweet cowslip grace her nominative case,
And she's of the feminine gender.

Rorum Corum, studt di vorum;

Harum scaram Divo:

Tag rag, merry derry, periwig and hat band,
Hic hoc Horum Genetivo.

Can I declare a nymph so divine,
Her voice like a flute is dulcis,
Her oculus bright, her manus white,
And soft when I tacto, her pulse is.

Rorum Corum, &c.

O how Della, my puella,

I'll kiss in seculo seculorum! If I've luck sir, she's my uxor,

O dies benedictorum!

Rorum Corum, &e.

ADVENTURES IN A STEAM-BOAT.

b, what a row, what a rumpus, what a rioting, Those endure, you may be sure, who go to sea; ship is a thing that you ne'er can be quiet in, By wind or steam 'tis all the same, 'twas so with

me.

Vife and daughter on the water said they'd like to sail a bit;

consented, soon repented, and began to rail a bit:

'apa, now, pray do go to day, the weather's so inviting, lauk!

'm sure 'twill do such good to you, they'd feed you like a fighting cock.

Oh, what a row, &c.

n a boat I got afloat, as clumsy as an elephant, So spruce and gay to spend the day and make a splash,

Indeed it's true, I did it too, for stepping in I fell off on't

And overboard, upon my word, I went slap dash. Wife squalling, daughter brawling, everything provoking me,

Called a hog, or poodle dog, all the sailors joking

me,

Dripping wet, in a pet, with many more distres sibles,

A fellow took the long boat hook and caught my inexpressibles,

Oh, what a row, &c.