3
Now Tam he was blaming the liquor,
Yae night he had got himsel' fou,
And trysted gleed Maggy MacVicar,
And, faith, he thought shame for to rue.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
The carles fu’ codgie sat cockin’
Upon their white nags and their brown,
Wi’ snuffing, and laughing, and joking,
They soon canter’d into the town;
'Twas there was the funning and sporting,
Eh! what a swarm o’ braw folk,
Rowly powly, wild beasts, wheel o’ fortune,
Sweety stan’s, Master Punch, and Black Jock.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Now Willock and Tam, gayan bouzy,
By this time had met wi’ their joes,
Consented wi' Gibbie and Susy
To gang awa down to the shows.
’Twas there was the fiddling and drumming,
Sic a crowd they could scarcely get through,
Fiddles, trumpets, and organs a-bumming,
O sirs, what a hully baloo.
Lilt te turan an uran, &c.
Then hie to the tents at the paling,
Weel theekit wi’ blankets and mats.
And deals seated round like a tap-room
