Choir. - O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, Ye wadnabeen sae shy; For laiko' gear ye lightlyme, But, trowth, I care na by. YestreenI met you on the moor, Ye spakna, but gaedbylike stour; Ye geckat me because I'm poor, But fient ahair care I. O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c. When

Altho' my bed were in yonmuir, Amangthe heather, in my plaidie; Yet happy, happy would I be, Had I my dear Montgomerie's Peggy. When o'er the hill beat surly storms, And winter nights were dark and rainy; I'd seek some dell, and in my arms I'd shelter dear Montgomerie's Peggy. Were I a baron proud

The sun he is sunk in the west, All creatures retired to rest, While here I sit, all sore beset, With sorrow, grief, and woe: And it's O, fickle Fortune, O! The prosperous man is asleep, Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep; But Misery and I must watch The surly tempest blow: And it's O,

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing Gaily in the sunny beam; List'ning to the wild birds singing, Bya falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and daring; Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave; Tress with aged arms were warring, O'er the swelling drumliewave. Such was my life's deceitful morning, Such the pleasures

Once I lov'd a bonie lass, Ay, and I love her still; And whilst that virtue warms my breast, I'll love my handsome Nell. As bonie lasses I haeseen, And mony full as braw; But, for a modest gracefu' mein, The like I never saw. A bonielass, I will confess, Is pleasant to the e'e;