Page:True lover's garland (1).pdf/4

 ( 4 ) She broke his shins, she tore his hair,

She made poor Will to wonder, O;

The pots and pans, and stools and chairs,

About his head did thunder, O!

Will was na us’d in sic a fray,

He ran out-by for shelter, O,

Cryin’, Curse upon the fatal day

That I to Kate was halter'd, O;

For had I ta’en a country maid,

Tho’ row’d up in her plaidie, O,

A richer man I wou’d ha’e been,

Than with the Glasgow lady, O.





In the days of my childhood as sportive I play'd  ''Among the young lasses arouudaround [sic]  I was fond then of laughing my grandmother said  None merrier ever was found:  To fill up the moments with joy and delight,  I scarcely knew what I'd be at;  Whatever was pleasing that came to my sight,  I could not help laughing at that.''

''Still the humour prevails tho' maturer I'm grown,  I am happy to smile time away;  The frolicks of fancy I still make my own,  And pleasantly spin out the day;''