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4 And while he stays ’mang Scotia’s hills He’ll aye be wi’ his sin, man, 1 here’s no a man in a’ the Ian,’ But wha wad serve him heart and han', And pleasure him the best they can— For a' do sweer they’ll keep him hear; For ae half-year, or may-be mair, If he will but remain, man!

THE HUMOURS OF GLASGOW FAIR

WITH ADDITIONS.

Tune—The Hallow Fair.

O The sun frae the eastward was peeping, And braid through the winnocks did stare, When W lie cry’d " Tam are vou sleeping? Mak haste, man, and rise to the fair: For the lads and the lasies are thranging. And a’ body’s now in a steer; Fy, haste ye, and let us be ganging. Or, faith, we’ll be langsome I fear.” Lilt te turan an uran, &c.

Then Tam he got up in a hurrie. And wow but he made himsel’ snod, For a pint o’ milk brose he did worrie, To mak him mair tengh for the road: On his head his blue bonnet be slippit, His whip o’er his shouther he flang, And a clumsie oak cudgel he be grippit, purpose the loons for to bang.