The Royal Princess/Tullochgorum

by John Skinner

For other versions of this work, see Tullochgorum.

TULLOCHGORUM.

COME gi'es a ſang the Lady cry'dAnd lay your diſputes all aſide,What ſignifies for folks to chideFor what's been done before them?Let Whig and Tory all agree,Whig and Torry, Whig and Tory,Let Whig and Tory all agreeTo drop their whigmegorum;Let whig and tory all agree To ſpend this night with mirth and gleeAnd cheerfu' ſing alang wi' me,The reel of Tullochgorum,Tullochgorum's my delightIt gets us a' in ane unite;And ony ſumph that keeps up ſpite,In conſcience I abhor him.Blyth and merry we's be a'Blyth and merry blyth and merry,Blyth and merry we's be a',to make a cheerfu' quorum,Blyth and merry, we's be a',As lang's we have breath to draw,And dance till we like to fa',The reel of Tullochgorum.There needs nae' be to greatar phraſe,Wi' drinking dull Italian lays,I wadna gi'e our ain StrthſpeysFor half a hundred ſcore o 'em;They're doaff and dowie at the beſt.Douff and dowie douff and dowie;Tey're douff and dowie at the beſt,Wi' a' variorum;They're douff and dowie at the beſt,Their all egroes, and a, the reſt,They cannot pleaſe a highland taſte, Compar'd wi' Tullochgorum,Let wardly minds themſelves oppreſs,Wi' fear of want and double ceſs,And ſilly ſauls themſelves diſtreſs,We' keeping up decorum;Shall we ſo ſour and ſulky ſitSour and ſulky, ſour and ſulky;Shall we ſae ſour and ſulky, fitLike auld PhiloſophorumShall we ſae ſour and fulky fit,Wi' neither ſenſe, nor mirth, nor witAnd canna riſe to ſhake a ſitAt the reel of Tullochgorum.May choiceſt bleſſings ſtill attend,Each honeſt hearted open friend,And calm and quiet be his end,Be a' that's good before him;May Peace and plenty be his lot,Peace and plenty, peace and plenty;May peace and plenty be his lotAnd dainties a great ſtore o'emMay peace and plenty be his lot,Unſtained by any vicious blot;And may he never want a groatThat's fond of Tullochgorum.But for the diſconted fool,Who wants to be oppreſſion's tool, May envy gnaw his rotten ſoul,And blackeſt friends devour him!May dole and ſorrow be his chance,Dole and ſorrow be his chance,May dole and ſorrow, be his chance,And honeſt ſouls abhor him;May dale and ſorow be his chance,And a' the ills that come frae France,Whoe'er he be that winna danceThe reel of Tullochgorum.