6
If to far India's coast we sail,
Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,
Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,
Thy skin is ivory so white;
Thus ev'ry beauteous objeet that I view,
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.
Tho' battle calls me from thy arms,
Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
Tho' cannons roar, yet, safe from harm,
William shall to his dear return:
Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.
The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosoms spread,
No longer must she stay on board,
They kiss'd-she sigh'd-he hung his head;
Her less'ning boat, unwilling, rows to land,
Adieu, she cry'd, and way'd her lily hand.
Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut.
O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allan cam to see,
Three blyther hearts, that lee lang night,
Ye wadna found in Christendie.
We are na fou, we're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
And ay we'll taste the barley bree.
Here are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mae we hope to be!
We are na fou, &c.
