lads o' coaly Tyne:
He'll set and row so tightly,
Or in the dance--so sprightly--
He'll cut and shuffle sightly;
'Tis true,--were he not mine.

He wears a blue bonnet,
Blue bonnet, blue bonnet;
He wears a blue bonnet,
And a dimple in his chin:
And weel may the keel row,
The keel row, the keel row;
And weel may the keel row,
That my laddie's in.

THE BLUE BELL OF SCOTLAND

OH where, and oh where, is your Highland laddie gone?
He's gone to fight the French for King George upon the throne;
And it's oh, in my heart, how I wish him safe at home!

Oh where, and oh where, does your Highland laddie dwell?
He dwells in merry Scotland, at the sign of the Blue Bell;
And it's oh, in my heart, that I love my laddie well.

In what clothes, in what clothes is your Highland laddie clad?
His bonnet's of the Saxon green, his waistcoat's of the plaid;
And it's oh, in my heart, that I love my Highland lad.

Suppose, oh, suppose that your Highland lad should die?
The bagpipes shall play over him, and I'll lay me down and cry;
And it's oh, in my heart, I wish he may not die.

_LADY NAIRNE_

THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN

THE Laird o' Cockpen he's proud an' he's great,
His mind is ta'en up wi' the things o' the State;
He wanted a wife his braw house to keep,
But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.

Doon by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table-head he thocht she 'd look well;
M'Cleish's ae dochter, o' Clavers-ha' Lee,
A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.

His wig was weel pouther'd, as gude as when new;
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, an' cocked hat,
An' wha could refuse the Laird wi' a' that?

He took the grey mare, he rade cannilie,
An' rapped at the yett o' Clavers-ha' Lee;
'Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,--
She's wanted to speak wi' the Laird o' Cockpen.'

Mistress Jean she was makin' the elder-flow'r wine;
'An' what brings the Laird at sic a like time?'
She put aff her apron, an' on her silk goon,
Her mutch wi' red ribbons, an' gaed awa doon.

An' when she cam' ben he bowed fu' low,
An' what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the Laird when the lady said Na!'
An' wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'!

Dumfounder'd was he, but nae sigh did he gi'e,
He mounted his mare an' he rade cannilie;
An' often he thocht, as he gaed through the glen,
'She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen!'

CALLER HERRIN'

WHA'LL buy my caller he