4
A wench began my arm to shake,
I could her hide have tann'd,
When she said for old acquaintance sake,
What are you going to stand?
Thinks I, egad this will not do,
So I bolted from the lot;
But run against a man I knew,
Ere a hundred yards I got;
I told him of the crew I'd met,
Says he I understand;
Now you've escaped from such a lot,
What are you going to stand?
My song I'll now conclude in this,
You'll all agree I think,
My friends that this is quite the March
Of Intellect for Drink.
When the landlord he puts out their light,
I'll take him by the hand,
You've had a very good room, my boy, to-night,
What are you going to stand?
The Lassies of Scotland.
The lassies of Scotland are bonny and free,
The maidens of Erin are fair,
The sweet girls of Britain are lovely to see,
And let them deny it who dare;
But the fairest of lassies
That all those surpasses,
Is Jeannie, the Maid of the Moor,
Is Jeannie, lovely Jeannie, the maid of the moor.
