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They'll live or die wi' fame willie, They'll live or die wi' fame,And soon wi' sounding victsry, May Kenmure's lads come hame.Here's Kenmure's health in wine willie, Here's Kenmure's health in wine,There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blud Nor yet o' Gordon's line.
His lady's cheeks were red willie. His lady's checks were redWhen she saw his steely jupes put on Which smelled o' deadly feud.Here's him that's far awa willie, Here's him that's far awa,And here's the flower that I lo'e best, The rose that's like the snaw.
~ ● ● ● ~~~~~~ ● ● ● ~
THE MILLER.
O merry may the maid be, That marries the miller,For foul day and fair day, He's aye bringing till her,
