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The GILDEROY.
To its own proper tune.
WE were both born in ae town-end
and both brought up together,
I wot we were not ſeven years old,
when we lov'd one another;
Our fathers and our mothers both,
of us they had great joy,
Expecting ſtill the marriage-day,
'twixt me and Gilderoy.
My love he was as brave a man,
as ever Scotland bred,
Deſcended of a Highland Clan,
but a Catrine to his trade.
For valour he had more renown,
than Hector had in Troy,
And ev'ry wealthy rogue and clown,
was fear'd for Gilderoy.
The Queen of Scots poſſeſſed not,
that my love let me want,
Both cows and ewes to me he brought
in time when they were ſcant:
All that did not honeſtly poſſeſs,
he only would annoy,
Who duly did not pay their ceſs,
to my love Gilderoy.
