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ON THE DEATH OF BURNS.

RICHARD GALL.

THERE'S waefu' news in yon town
As e'er the warld heard ava;
There's dolefu' news in yon town,

For Robbie's gane and left them a'.

How blythe it was to see his face

Come keeking by the hallan wa'; He ne'er was sweir to say the grace, But now he's gane and left them a'. He was the lad wha made them glad, Whanever he the reed did blaw: The lasses there may drap a tear, Their funny friend is now awa'.

Nae daffin now in yon town;

The browster-wife gets leave to draw

An' drink hersel', in yon town,

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Sin' Robbie gaed and left them a'.

The lawin's canny counted now,

The bell that tinkled ne'er will draw;

The king will never get his due,

Sin' Robbie gaed and left them a'.

The squads o' chiels that lo'ed a splore
On winter evenings never ca';
Their blythesome moments a' are o'er,
Sin' Robbie's gane and left them a'.

Frae a' the een in yon town
I see the tears o' sorrow fa',
An' weel they may; in yon town
Nae canty sang they hear ava.

Their e'ening sky begins to lour,

The murky clouds thegither draw; "Twas but a blink afore a shower,

Ere Robbie gaed and left them a'.

The landwart hizzy winna speak;
Ye'll see her sitting like a craw
Amang the reek, while rattons squeak-
Her dawtit bard is now awa'.

But could I lay my hand upon

His whistle, keenly wad I blaw, An' screw about the auld drone,

An' lilt a lightsome spring or twa.

If it were sweetest aye when wat,
Then wad I ripe my pouch, an' draw,
An' steep it weel amang the maut,
As lang's I'd saxpence at my ca'.

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Argyll is my name, and you may think it strange

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Auld gudeman, ye're a drunken carle, drunken carle

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Bonnie lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go

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But are ye sure the news is true....

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But lately seen in gladsome green

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By Carnousie's wa's, at the close of the day...

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By Logan's streams, that rin sae deep

By smooth-winding Tay a swain was reclining.
By yon castle-wa', at the close of the day.....

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Ca' the yowes to the knowes

Caledonia! thou land of the mountain and rock

Cam' ye by Athole braes, lad wi' the philabeg

Can I behave, can I behave...........................

Carle, an the king come

Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west

Clavers and his Highlandmen........

Come, all ye jolly shepherds

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Come, boat me ower, come, row me ower

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Come, gi'e 's a sang, Montgomery cried......

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Come under my plaidie, the night's gaun to fa'.

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Eliza was a bonnie lass, an', oh, she lo'ed me weel

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Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye

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Hame, hame, hame! oh, hame fain wad I be!

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Happy's the love which meets return.........

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Hear me, ye nymphs and ev'ry swain...

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In the garb of old Gaul, with the fire of old Rome

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I wish I were where Helen lies

Jockey fou, Jenny fain.........................

John Anderson my jo, John

Land of my fathers! though no mangrove here
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks.......

Last May a braw wooer came down the lang glen
Let them boast of the country gave Patrick his fame

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