“ They love the sparkling warm heart’s blood
Of Sir John Barleycorn, Sir.
And O, &c.
Then fill us up a glass, my lads,
And let us have our fill, Sir;
That cutty-stoup will never do,
Bring in the Hawick-gill, Sir.
Tis true, our cash is growing scant,
(and so much more's the pity,)
But while we have a penny left,
We’ll spen't on Aquavitae. ”

“ I’ll be doing without it, till I come to Tyrone.
When we arrived in our native country,
all the whole case to my father made known;
Five hundred pounds he gave us,
If that would not serve us,
He’d give us still more in the County Tyrone.
These two live together,
In joy and great pleasure,
if you want to see them you must go to Tyrone.
My love’s name to finish,
Is Miss Jeany Innes;
Myself bold M‘Ginnes, from the County Tyrone.
CAPTAIN MULLIGAN.
O Love is a plague by night and by day. ”

“ But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning.
The flowers of the forest are a’ wede away.
At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning,
Lasses are lanely, and dowie, and wae!
Nae daffing, nae gabbing, but sighing sabbing;
Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her away.
In har’st; at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering:
Bandsters are wrunkled, and lyart, or grey:
At fairs, or at preachings, nae wooing, nae sleeching,
The flowers of the forest are a’ wede away,
At e’en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming
'bout stacks,with the lasses, at bogle or play ”

“ Her een was like the glomin’ star, '
And glitterin’ was her gowden hair;
There’s no a lass round Britain’s Isle
With my sweet Mary can compare.
Blythe, blythe, &c.
The GLEN of TORRANCE is a beautiful. ”