BOOK VIII - BACCHANALIA 120 - O, WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT O, WILLIE brew'd a peck o' maut, =And Rob and Allan cam to see; Three blither hearts, that lee-lang night, =Ye wad na find in Christendie. ==We are na fou, we're nae that fou, ===But just a drappie in our e'e; ==The cock may craw, the day may daw, ===And aye we'll taste the barley bree. Here are we met, three merry boys, =Three merry boys, I trow, are we; And mony a night we've merry been, =And mony mae we hope to be! It is the moon—I ken her horn, =That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie; She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, =But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee! Wha first shall rise to gang awa', =A cuckold coward loon is he! Wha first beside his chair shall fa', =He is the king amang us three. =======_Robert Burns_. 121 - CONTENTED WI' LITTLE CONTENTED wi' little, and cantie wi' mair, Whene'er I foregather wi' sorrow and care, I gie them a skeip as they're creepin' alang, Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang. I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought; But man is a soger, and life is a faught: My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch, And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch dare touch. A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa', A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a': When at the blithe end o' our journey at last, Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past! Blind chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way, Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae: Come ease, or come travail, come pleasure or pain, My warst word is—Welcome, and welcome again! =======_Robert Burns_. 122 - THE BANKS O' THE DEE I MET wi' a man on the banks o' the Dee, An' a merrier body I never did see; Though Time had bedrizzled his haffits wi' snaw, An' Fortune had stown his luckpenny awa', Yet never a mortal mair happy could be Than the man that I met on the banks o' the Dee. When young, he had plenty o' owsen an' kye, A wide wavin' mailin, all' siller forbye; But cauld was his hearth ere his youdith was o'er, An' he delved on the lands he had lairded before; Yet though beggared his ha' an' deserted his lea, Contented he roamed on the banks o' the Dee. ‘Twas heartsome to see the auld body sae gay, As he toddled adown by the gowany brae, Sae canty, sae crouse, an' sae pruif against care; Yet it wasna through riches, it wasna through lear; But I fand out the cause ere I left the sweet Dee— The man was as drunk as a mortal could be! =======_George Outram_. 123 - GUDEWIFE, COUNT THE LAWIN GANE is the day, and mirk's the night, But we'll ne'er stray for faut o' light, For ale and brandy's stars and moon, And blude-red wine's the risin' sun. =Then, gudewife, count the lawin, =The lawin, the lawin; =Then, gudewife, count the lawin, =And bring a coggie mair. There's wealth and ease for gentlemen, And semple-folk maun fecht and fen'; But here we're a' in ae accord, For ilka man that's drunk's a lord. My coggie is a haly pool, That heals the wounds o' care and dool; And pleasure is a wanton trout— An' ye drink but deep, ye'll find him out. =Then, gudewife, count the lawin, =The lawin, the lawin; =Then, gudewife, count the lawin, =And bring a coggie mair. =======_Robert Burns_. 124 - GUDE ALE HAUDS MY HEART ABOON O GUDE ale comes and gude ale goes, Gude ale gars me sell my hose, Sell my hose and pawn my shoon, Gude ale hauds my heart aboon: Gude ale keeps me bare and busy, Brandy makes me dull and dizzy, Gars me sleep and sough i' my shoon, Gude ale hauds my heart aboon. O in the sweetest plums there's stanes, And in the fairest beef there's banes Rum turns ye rude, wine makes ye pale, There's life and love and soul in ale: Gude ale's the medicine oft spae'd of, The very stuff that life is made of, Dropt in a receipt from the moon, To haud men's sinking hearts aboon. May he rub shoulders wi' the gallows, Who wad keep gude ale frae gude fallows; May he gape wide when suns are south, And never drink come near his drouth; But here's to him, where'er he roam, Who loves to see the flagons foam, For he's a king o'er lord and loon— Gude ale hauds my heart aboon. 125 - TODLEN HAME WHEN I've a saxpence under my thumb, Then I'll get credit in ilka town, But ay when I'm poor they bid me gang by; O! poverty parts good company. =_Todlen hame, todlen hame,_ =_Couldna my love come todlen hame?_ Fair fa' the goodwife, and send her gude sale, She gies us white bannocks to drink her ale, Syne if that her tippeny chance to be sma', We'll tak' a good scour o't and ca't awa': =_Todlen hame, todlen hame,_ =_As round as a neep come todlen hame._ My kimmer and I lay down to sleep, And twa pint stoups at our bed's feet; And ay when we waken'd, we drank them dry: What think ye of my wee kimmer and I? =_Todlen but, and todlen ben,_ =_Sae round as my love comes todlen hame._ Leez me on liquor, my todlen dow, Ye're aye sae good-humoured, when weeting your mou'; When sober, sae sour, ye'll fight with a flee, That ‘tis a blyth sight to the bairns and me, =_When todlen hame, todlen hame,_ =_When round as a neep you come todlen hame._ 126 - HOOLIE AND FAIRLY DOWN in yon valley a couple did tarry; The wife she drank naething but sack and canary: The gudeman complain'd to her friends right sairly, O! gin my wife wad drink hoolie and fairly! First she drank Crummie, and syne she drank Gairie, And syne she has drucken my bonnie grey mairie, That carried me through the dub and the glairie: O! gin my wife wad drink hoolie and fairly! She has drucken her hose, she has drucken her shoon, Her snaw-white mutch and her bonnie new goun, Her sark of the hollans that cover'd her rarely: O! gin my wife wad drink hoolie and fairly! Wad she drink but her ain things I wadna much care, But she drinks my claes that I canna weel spare; At kirk and at market I'm cover'd but barely: O! gin my wife wad drink hoolie and fairly! 127 - THE ORGIASTS O FARE ye weel, my auld wife! =Sing bum, biberry bum. O fare ye weel, my auld wife! =Sing bum. O fare ye weel, my auld wife, Thou steerer up o' sturt and strife! The maut's aboon the meal the nicht =Wi' some. And fare ye weel, my pike-staff! =Sing bum, biberry bum. And fare ye weel, my pike-staff! =Sing bum. And fare ye weel, my pike-staff— Nae mair with thee my wife I'll baff! The maut's aboon the meal the nicht =Wi' some. Fu' white white was her winding-sheet! =Sing bum, biberry bum. Fu' white white was her winding-sheet! =Sing bum. I was ower gladsome far to greet, I danced my lane, and sang to see 't— The maut's aboon the meal the nicht =Wi' some. ====(2) WAS there ere sic a parish, a parish, a parish, =Was there ere sic a parish as Little Dunkeld? They've stickit the minister, hanged the precentor, =Dung doun the steeple, and drucken the bell! ====(3) WE'RE a' dry wi' the drinkin' o't, =We're a' dry wi' the drinkin' o't, The minister kissed the fiddler's wife, =And he couldna preach for thinkin' o't. 128 - A WISH =I wish I was a Bottle! O' brandy, rum, or what you please, =In some frequented hottle, Where gude souls tak their bread an' cheese; =To fill out a gill For some puir chield that wants a trade— =Or pass o'er the hass O' some blythe, rantin', roarin' blade; =An' while unscrewed, I'd sit an' brood, ==An' think mysel' weel blessed to ken =That when I dee'd I'd spend my bluid ==To purchase joy for honest men! =======_George Outram_.