Five Songs 
 
 Willie was a Wanton Wag* 
 
 Bailie Nicol Jarvie's Journev 
 to Aberfoil. 
 
 Whistle, and Til come to you. 
 
 Bonny Johnnie Lowrie. 
 
 Scottish Whiskie. 
 
 KILMARNOCK: 
 Printed fur the JbuLcHers. 
 
2 
 
 WILLIE WAS A WANTON WAG. 
 
 ^TT JLLIE was a wanton wag, 
 W Tljr blythest lad that e'er I saw, 
 At bridals still he bare the brag, 
 
 And carried ay the gree awa ? 
 His doublet wai of Zetland shag, 
 
 And, wow I but Willie he was braw, 
 And at his shoulder hang a tag, 
 
 That pleas'd the lasses best of a*. 
 
 He was a man without a cfog, 
 
 His heart j^as frark witftout a flaw 
 And aye w' atecei Willie said, 
 
 it was s^ili nadder> as a law. 
 His bootskhey were made oHhe jag, 
 
 vVhen we went to the Weapon shaw ; 
 Upon the sreen nane durst him brag, 
 
 The fiend a ane amang them a*. 
 
 Aad was na Willie worth towd? 
 
 He wao the love oi great and sma' ? 
 
3 
 
 For after he the bride had kiss'd, 
 
 He kiss'd the lasses hale- sale a*. * 
 Sat merrily round the ring they row'd, 
 
 When by the hand he led them a', 
 And smack or. sm-ick on them bestow'd* 
 
 By virtue of a standiag law, 
 
 And wqs r.a Willie a great lown. 
 
 As shyre a lick as e'er was se^n ; 
 Wh»a he daue'd wi* the lasses round, 
 
 The bridegroom spier'd where he had beea , 
 Quoth Willie* I've. been at the ring, 
 
 With bobbing* faith rny shanks are sair ; 
 Gae ca your bride and maidens in, 
 
 For Willie he dow do nae mair. 
 
 Then rest ye, Willie, I'll gae out, 
 
 And lor a wee fill up the ring ; 
 But, shame light on his souple snout, 
 
 He wanted Willie's wanton fhng. 
 Then strait he to the bride did far?, 
 
 Says, waes me on your bonny face, 
 Wrh b ebbing Willie's shanks are sair, 
 
 And I'm come out to fill his place. 
 
 Bridegroom, she says, you'll spoil the dance, j 
 
 t\nd at the ring you'll aye be lag, 
 Unless, like Willie, ye advance ; 
 
 O ! Willie has a wanton leg. 
 For wit. he learns us a* to steer, 
 
 /\nd foremost aye hears up the ring j 
 We will Und nae sic debiting; here, 
 
 If we want Willie 's wanton img* 
 
4 
 
 r> At LIE NICQL J YRVIE'S JOURNEY TO 
 
 ABERFOIL! 
 
 Air— Quaker's Wife. 
 
 YOU may ta'k o' your Wallace, and ta'k o' your 
 
 nice, 
 
 And t 'ko' v Mir feighting Red Re<ver : 
 But ^v cre will you find a mar; sic use, 
 
 Av a • orou 1 , h b-ed Saut»M^rket Weaver; 
 Let orce Nic<~l Jxrvie come under your view, 
 
 At ha me • v> i. $fce people adore me; 
 Whn* they made a Ignite, and Counsellor too, 
 
 Like my father, the Deacon, before xne, 
 
 The etavering chiels in the clachan, hard by, 
 
 They'll no ^i'e .? bodv bu. hard words ; 
 • My Conscience! they'll find, if again we shaU try, 
 
 A Het P k r's as goo J as the r Braid Swords. 
 -« it's as weei to let that flee st.ek fast to the wa%" 
 
 For if they sh- ukl chance to ctayinore me; 
 *' Let skepin dogs lie," is the besr :hing ava, 
 
 Said my fatner, the Deacon, before me. 
 
 My poor cousin Rab, and his terrible wife, 
 
 Was sae proud that she criose ro disown me, 
 An* she naething thought o' a Magistrate's life ; 
 
 hij Conscience] she wa- just gaun to drown me. 
 Bal if I a^ iin in her clutches shouid pop, 
 
 Foot Marty may live to deplore me, 
 Bu we-e I at Glasgow, I'd stick by my shop, 
 
 Like my father, the Deacon, betore me. 
 
5 
 
 Now, fc> think o' them hanging a baiue so high, 
 
 To be pick'd at by corbies and burdies, 
 3ut it I were at Glasgow, my Conscience ! I'll try 
 
 That the;r craigs feel the weight o' their lui: dies* 
 But stop, NjcoI, stop man ! na, that canna be, 
 
 Fot <f ane wad to h-tme sate restore ye, 
 In the Sautmarket safe, I'll forget 2nd fcrgi'e, 
 
 Like my father, the Deacon, before me. 
 
 In favour o' Matty a word let me sav, 
 
 O* Lunnon qoeans she's wor th a d -zen ; 
 Through the foul paths o' darkness she leads me 
 the way, 
 
 Though of Limmerfieid she's the laird's cousin ; 
 To match then wi' Matty I'm no that aboou, 
 
 Aad young Nicol I shall ado;e him, 
 li he to his friends but as grateful do prove 
 
 As his father, the Bailie, bcf.jre him. 
 
 WHISTLE, AND I LL COME TO YOU. 
 
 O whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad, 
 
 O whistle. Sic. f 
 Tho' father and mother, and a' should gae mad, 
 O whistle, an' I'll come to you, my lad. 
 
 Come down the back stairs, when ye come to court 
 
 me, 
 
 Come down, &c. 
 Come down the back stairs, and let nae body see; 
 Ana come as ye were na coming tome, 
 .And come, &c. 
 
6 
 
 At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me, 
 Ganfc hy me, as ,o' ye c*r d na a fl.-e, 
 But steal me a bunk o' fdmr bonny black e'e, 
 Yn look as ye were na looking at me. 
 Yer look, &c. 
 
 Ay vow and protest hat ye care na for me? 
 And whiles j&e may lightly try he-iiry a wee ; 
 But court n ? anft&er, though joking ye be, 
 For ft-ar t sto wyle your fa.:cy irae me. 
 For fear, &c. 
 
 O whistle, sn'd I'll come to ycu, my fed, 
 
 O whist!., &c. 
 Though father and mother, and a' should gae mad, 
 O whisde ; and I'll come to you, my lad. 
 
 BONNIE JOHNNIE LAWR1E. 
 
 OF all the lads in Tinwald. town, 
 Or l< vely tair, or black, or brown, 
 There never was s:-+e droll a ;own, 
 
 As bonny Johnnie Lovvrui 
 Tim# owden, dowuen dow, and tirrie, &c, 
 
 My dad a peck o'i int did sow, 
 1 went to see boiv- h did grow, 
 When wha came skipping^o'er the knowe. 
 But b n nny Johnnie Lowrie. 
 
 I wander'd out to weed the same, 
 My laddie kend I was frae hame } 
 
7 
 
 To follow xne he was na lame, 
 My bonny Johnnie Lowrie. 
 
 I took my flax unto the mill, 
 My jewel folio w'd after still ; 
 And coming hame I got a gill 
 Frae bonny Johnnie Lowrie* 
 
 When I gaed to the Bar to sheer, 
 Close at my heels I had my dear ; 
 I in the kemp the gree did bear, 
 Wi* bonny J*hnny Lowrie. 
 
 And when I went to the Rood-fair, 
 I wat I didna want my shar: 
 O' a* the good things that was there, 
 Frae bonny Johnnie Lowrie. 
 
 At last, one night into the park, 
 I met wi' him when it wa* dark, 
 And aye sinsyne I. b^ar the mark 
 Of bonny Johnnie Lowrie. 
 
 But Johnnie's true, he did rne wed, 
 Yestreen we tumbled into bed : 
 I care na now fcr mam or dad, 
 Since I have Johnnie Lo vrie. 
 
 I carena now for jacking gown, 
 Or priest or eldet in the town 5 
 111 take the world remgh aa" roun*, 
 
 Vi bonny Johnnu* Lo vrie-. 
 Trrrie swden, dowden dow, and tirrie owden, Ice, 
 
8 
 
 SCOTTISH WHISKIK 
 
 YE social sons of Scotia's isle, 
 
 Who love to rar t and rear, Sir, 
 To drink, to dance, to laugh, to sing ; 
 
 And hie v ithoutien care, Sir ; 
 Attend and listen to my lays, 
 
 •Twill make you blithe and friskie ; 
 J stng, who dare my theme despise? 
 In praise of guid Scots Whiskie. 
 O my cheering, care-dispelling, 
 
 Hear^ievivi ig Wh'skie ! 
 Thou brighten up the glooms of life, 
 That aft \c k dark and duskie. 
 Let Frenchmen o' their bev'rage boa=t, 
 
 The juice of Gallic vine, Sir, 
 And Dons and I\ rtu. ue<e rehearse 
 
 The -praises o' their wine, Sir j 
 I don't envy th^m wi' tneir tons, 
 
 Gi'e rne a little caskie 
 O' Caledonia'.; nectj|r pure, 
 The real Scottish Wnisfcie. 
 O my chettfeg, Sec. 
 Jamaica rum it's but a hum, 
 
 So is the best Antigtta ; 
 A«d Holland's gin\; ao worth a pin. 
 
 Compared wi' deur Kilbegie. 
 Whoever wan is to take a bouse, 
 
 Or have ajov al pitskje, 
 They only need to weet their mou*3 
 Wi* real Sc-aush WNskie. 
 O my cheering, &c. 
 
 FIN I S*