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And dance, till we be like to fa’,
The Reel of Tullochgorum.

There needs na be sae great a phrase
Wi’ dringing dull Italian lays;
I wadna gie our ain strathspeys
For hauf a bunder score o‘m.
They‘re dowff and dowie at the best,
Dowff and dowie, dowff and dowie,
They’re dowff and dowie at the best,
Wi‘ a‘ their variorum:
They‘re dowff and dowie at the best.
Their allegro’s, and a‘ the rest,
They canna please a Highland taste,
Compar‘d wi‘ Tullochgorum.

Let warldly minds themselves oppress,
Wi‘ fear o‘ want, and double cess,
And silly sauls themselves distress,
Wi‘ keeping up decorum.
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Like auld Philosophorum?
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Wi‘ neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,
And canna rise to shake a fit
To the Reel of Tullochgorum?