Page:Scotch songs.pdf/8

8 May peace and plenty be his lot, Unstain'd by ony vicious blot; And may he never want a groat
 * That's fond of Tullochgorum.

But for the discontented fool, Who wants to be oppression's tool, May envy gnaw his rotten soul,
 * And blackest fiends devour him!

May dole and sorrow be his chance
 * Dole and sorrow,
 * Dole and sorrow,

May dole and sorrow be his chance
 * And honest souls abhor him:

May dole and sorrow be his chance And a' the ills that come frae France Whae'er he be, that winna dance
 * The reel of Tullochgorum.

Macarters, Printers, Ayr.