Lizzy Lindsay.
[There is an old ballad called "Lizzy Lindsay," of which some fragments remain. The first verse of the following words was written by Burns for Johnson's Museum, to an old air, "Will ye gang wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay," which he communicated. The present version is sung to the tune of "The Ewe-Bughts."]
Will ye gang wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay,
Will ye gang to the Highlands wi' me?
Will ye gang wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay,
My bride and my darling to be?
To gang to the Highlands wi' you, sir,
I dinna ken how that may be,
For I ken nae the land that ye live in,
Nor ken I the lad I'm gaun wi'.
O Lizzy, lass, ye maun ken little,
If sae ye dinna ken me;
For my name is Lord Ronald MacDonald,
A chieftain o' high degree.
She has kilted her coats o' green satin,
She has kilted them up to the knee,
And she's aff wi' Lord Ronald MacDonald,
His bride and his darling to be.
Hooly and Fairly.
[The words of this song belong to about the middle of the last century, but their author's name has escaped being recorded. They are to be found in a collection of songs, called The Charmer, published at Edinburgh in 1751, but whether printed there for the first time cannot with certainty be said. The title to the song there given is "The Druken Wife o' Gallowa'," which title it bears in common with "Hooly and Fairly." The air is supposed to be old.]
Doun in yon meadow a couple did tarry:
The gudewife she drank naething but sack and canary;
The gudeman complain'd to her friends richt sairly—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
Hooly and fairly, hooly and fairly,
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
First she drank Crummie, and syne she drank Gairie,
And syne she drank my bonnie gray marie,
That carried me through a' the dubs and the glairie—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
She drank her hose, she drank her shoon,
And syne she drank her bonnie new goun;
She drank her sark that cover'd her rarely—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
Wad she drink but her ain things, I wadna care,
But she drinks my claes that I canna weel spare,
When I'm wi' my gossips it angers me sairly—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
My Sunday's coat she's laid it in wad,
And the best blue bonnet e'er was on my head;
At kirk or at mercat I'm cover'd but barely—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
My bonnie white mittens I wore on my hands,
Wi' her neibour's wife she laid them in pawns;
My bane-headed staff that I looed sae dearly—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
I never was for wranglin' nor strife,
Nor did I deny her the comforts o' life;
For when there's a war, I'm aye for a parley—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
When there's ony money she maun keep the purse;
If I seek but a bawbee she'll scold and she'll curse;
She lives like a queen—I but scrimpit and sparely—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
A pint wi' her cummers I wad her allow;
But when she sits down, oh, the jaud she gets fou,
And when she is fou she is unco camstarie—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
When she comes to the street she roars and she rants,
Has nae fear o' her neibours, nor minds the house wants;
She rants up some fule-sang, like, Up your heart, Charlie!—
Oh, gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
When she comes hame she lays on the lads,
The lasses she ca's baith bitches and jauds,
And ca's mysell an auld cuckle-carlie—
Oh gin my wife wad drink hooly and fairly!
