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The whiskys pread joy an' ta' whiskys pread woe,the whiskys pe freen' an' ta' whiskys pe foe,An' shust as you'll treat him he'll shust use you so,hims goods an' hims nevils shust pend upon you.An' now my pra' lads this goot vice I will gie,whene'er that you'll meet wi' the shone parley pree',Shust tuek your goot glass's ane twa nor three,put oich tuekit care no pe piper bitch fou',
HOME, SWEET HOME.
Sea to mnsic by Bishop.
Mid pleasures, and palaces, tho' we may roam,Be it ever so humble there's no place like home,A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.Home, home, sweet, sweet home.There's no place like home—there's no place like home.An exile from home, splendour dazzles in vain,O give me my lowly thatch'd cottage again;The birds singing gaily that came at my call,Give me them, with thy peace of mind, dearer than all.Home, home, sweet, sweet home,There's no place like home—there's no place like home.
