SONGS. VL And now a widow, I must mourn The pleasures that will ne'er ret.m'n; No eornfort but a hearty can, When I think on John Highlandman. A pigmy seraper.wi' his fiddle., TVha us'd to tTys? and fairs to driddle, Her strappan,limb.and gaucy middle, He reach'd nae. Had hoI'd his heartie like a riddle, An* 5]awn't on ?Vi' hand on haunch, an? upward e'e? lie croon'd his gamut, one, two, three, �nen in an Arioso ke?]?h e wee Apollo I?et' off ? wi* J/llcgretto ?lee lite giga solo. T?w?--' W7?t/e e'er tlw L me ryke up to dight that tear, go wi' me to be my dear, An' th?n you? ev'ry care and fear May whistle o'er the lqve o't. I am a ?fiddler fo m? trade, �?nd a' the tunes that e'er Iplmj'd, The sweetest still to wife or maid, l?ra? whist? o'er ihe la?e o't. H. .At kirns and weddings we'?e be them, And O! ?e niceIfs we will farel
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