SONGS.
THE HUMOURS OF GLASGOW FAIR.
O, the sun frae the eastward was peeping,
And braid through the winnocks did stare,
When Willie cried, Tam, are you sleeping,
Mak haste, man, and rise to the fair;
For the lads and the lasses are thranging,
And a’ body’s now in a steer;
Fve, haste ye, and let us be ganging,
Or, faith, we’ll be langsome, I fear.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Then Tam he got up in a hurry,
And wow but he made himself snod,
For a pint o’ milk brose he did worry.
To mak him mair teugh for the road.
On his head his blue bonnet he slippet,
His whip o’er his shouther he flang,
And a clumsy oak cudgel he grippet,
On purpose the loons for to bang.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Now Willock had trysted wi’ Jenny,
For she was a braw canty queen,
Word gade she had a gay penny,
