Page:Donald M'Donald (1).pdf/8

 The ancient bards, to shaw their skill, Plac'd Muses on Pernassus, O; But let them fable as they will, My Muses are the lasses, O. Fairfa' the lasses, &c.

The drunkard cries, the joys o' wine, A'ither mirth surpasses, O; But he ne'er kent the bliss divine, That I hae wi' the lasses, O. Fairfa' the lasses, &c.

When I am wi' the chosen few, The time tu' quickly passes, O, But days are hours, and less, I trow, When I am wi' the lasses, O. Fairfa' the lasses, &c.

When joys abound, then let a round Of overflowing glasses, O; Gae brisk about, and clean drink out, The feast be— "Bonny lasses," O. Fairfa' the lasses, &c.