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 Trees may bud, and birds may sing, Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, Joy to me they canna bring, Unless wi' thee my dearie, O.

Scotia's Sons.

Blithe, blithe, aroun' the nappy, Let us join in social głce; While we're here we'll hae a drappy, Scotia's sons hae aye been free.

Our auld forbears, when owre their yill, And castle bickers roun' did ca', Forsooth! they cried, anither gill, For sweert we are to gang awa. Blithe, blithe, &c.

Some hearty cock wad then hae sang, An auld Scotch sonnet aff wi' glee, Syne pledg'd his cog-the chorus rang, Auld Scotia and her sons are free

Thus cracks, and jokes and sangs gaed roun', Till morn the weens of light did draw, Yet drie to rise the carls roun', y d, Doch an dorais, then awa Blithe, blithe, &c.

The landlord then the nappy brings, And toasts fu' happy a' may be ;