And there we will live by our industry,
And wha'll be sae happy as Maggie and me?
We'll a' grow as fat as a Norway seal,
Wi' our feasting on bannocks o' barley meal.
Then fare ye weel, citizens, noisy men,
Wha jolt in your coaches to Drury Lane;
Ye bucks o' Bear-garden, I bid you adieu,
For drinking and swearing, I leave it to you.
I'm fairly resolved for a country life,
And nae langer will live in hurry and strife;
I'll aff to the Highlands as hard's I can reel,
And whang at the bannocks o' barley meal.
Janet Dunbar.
[Robert Nicoll.—Air, "Glenorchy braes."—Printed here with the permission of Nicol's publisher, Mr. Tait of Edinburgh.]
A sonsie auld carline is Janet Dunbar,
A donsie auld carline is Janet Dunbar;
For a gash skilly body, weel kent near and far,
Thro' the hail kintra side, canty Janet Dunbar.
Folk spier her advice, baith the greatest and least,
For she cures a' diseases o' man an' o' beast;
She has words that will keep awa' witches and dells,
She has syrups in bottles, and herbs in auld creels;
To caulds and rheumatics she proves sic a fae,
They canna get rest in the parish a day;
In this queer kind o' warld there's mony a waur,
Than our cheery auld carline, gash Janet Dunbar!
A sonsie, &c.
Her hame is a howf to the bairnies at schule,
And she dauts them an' hauds them fu' couthie an' weel;
Till in her auld lug a' their sorrows they tell,
For she'll scold for their sakes, e'en the dominie's sell!
But Janet's hie time is when night settles doun,
An' a' the auld wives gather in frae the toun,
To tell what they are na, and thae ither are,
This is meat, drink, and claething to Janet Dunbar.
A sonsie, &c.
And Janet's auld house has a butt and a ben,
Where twa folk can meet and let naebody ken;
For Janet thinks true love nane e'er should restrain,
Having had, thretty years' sin', a lad o' her ain;
And then when the whispering and courting has dune,
For some lee-like story is Janet in tune,
About some bluidy doings in some Highland scaur,
You're a queer ane!—'deed are ye noo, Janet Dunbar.
A sonsie, &c.
But when some o' her cronies ha'e kirsen'd a wean,
Then Janet sae braw in her glory is seen,
She winks to the neighbours, and jokes the guidman,
Till his face grows sae red, that he maistly could ban;
Syne she turns to the mither, an' tak's the wean's loof,
An' tells that he'll neither be laggard nor coof!
You're a happy auld body—sae bright be your star,
And lang may ye stump about, Janet Dunbar.
A sonsie, &c.
The Collier's bonnie lassie.
[This is Ramsay's version of an old song called "The Collier's bonnie lassie," and appears in the first volume of his Tea-Table Miscellany. The first stanza of the original song ran thus:
The collier has a daughter,
And, O! she's wondrous bonnie;
A laird he was that sought her,
Rich baith in lands and money.
She wadna ha'e a laird,
Nor wad she be a lady;
But she wad ha'e a collier,
The colour o' her daddie.
The tune is given in the Orpheus Caledonius (1725.) It was selected by Gay for one of his songs in his Opera called "Polly," beginning "When right and wrong's decided."]
The collier has a daughter,
And, O! she's wondrous bonnie.
A laird he was that sought her,
Rich baith in lands and money.
The tutors watched the motion
Of this young honest lover:
But love is like the ocean;
Wha can its depths discover!
