Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/278

260 SEQUEL TO MAGGIE LAUDER.

[ by, and first published in a small collection of his pieces, 1811.]

[ by, for Johnson's Museum, to the tune of "Maggie Lauder."]

Boreas bauld, that carle auld,

Should sough a surly chorus;

And winter fell walk out himsel',

And throw his mantle o'er us;

Though winds blaw drift adown the lift,

And drive hailstanes afore 'em,

While you an' I sit snug an' dry,

Let's push about the jorum!

Though no a bird can now be heard

Upon the leafless timmer;

Whate'er betide, the ingle side

Can mak' the winter simmer!

Though cauldrife souls hate reeking bowls,

And loath what's set before 'em;

How sweet to tout the glasses out—

O leeze me on a jorum!

The hie hill taps, like baxters' baps,

Wi'snaw are white and floury;

Skyte down the lum, the hailstanes come

In winter's wildest fury!

Sharp Johnny Frost wi' barkynt hoast

Maks trav'llers tramp the quicker;

Shou'd he come here to spoil our cheer,

We'll drown him in the bicker!

Bess, beet the fire—come big it higher,

Lest cauld should mak' us canker'd;

This is our hame, my dainty dame,

Sae, fill the tither tankard!