LUVE.

Tune--"_My tocher's the jewel._"

[These verses were written by Burns for the Museum, to an air by
Oswald: but he wished them to be sung to a tune called "Lord Elcho's
favourite," of which he was an admirer.]

I.

O Meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty,
And meikle thinks my luve o' my kin;
But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie
My tocher's the jewel has charms for him.
It's a' for the apple he'll nourish the tree;
It's a' for the hiney he'll cherish the bee;
My laddie's sae meikle in luve wi' the siller,
He canna hae lure to spare for me.

II.

Your proffer o' luve's an airl-penny,
My tocher's the bargain ye wad buy;
But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin',
Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try.
Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten tree,
Ye'll slip frae me like a knotless thread,
And ye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me.

* * * * *

XCVIII.

GANE IS THE DAY.

Tune--"_Gudewife count the lawin._"

[The air as well as words of this song were furnished to the Museum by
Burns. "The chorus," he says, "is part of an old song."]

I.

Gane is the day, and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for fau't o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And blude-red wine's the rising sun.
Then gudewife count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin;
Then gudewife count the lawin,
And bring a coggie mair!

II.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And simple folk maun fight and fen;
But here we're a' in ae accord,
For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.

III.

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!

* * * * *

XCIX.

THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE.

Tune--"_There art few gude fellows when Willie's awa._"

[The bard was in one of his Jacobitical moods when he wrote this song.
The air is a well known one, called "There's few gude fellows when
Willie's awa." But of the words none, it is supposed, are
preserved.]

I.

By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,
I heard a man sing, though his head it was gray;
A