Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Collection of ancient and modern Scottish ballads, tales, and songs > Volume 2

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There sat a bottle in a bole,
Bey out the ingle low ;
And ay she took the tither souk^
To drouk the stourie tow.
The weary pmid, &c.
Quoth I, For shame, ye dirty dame,
Gae spin your tap o' tow !
She took the rock, and wi' a knock.
She brak it o'er my pow.
The weary pimd, &c.
At last her feet, I sang to see't,
Gaed foremost o'er the knowe:
And or I wed anither jad,
I'll wallop in a tow.
The weary pimd, &c.
UP IN THE MORNING EAULY.
[The chorus is old ; the other two verses are by Burns.]
C/AULD blaws the wind frae east to west.
The drift is driving sairly ;
Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast,
I'm sm*e it's winter fairly.
Up in the morning's no for me, ,
Up in the morning early ;
When a' the hills ire cover d wi' snaw,
Fm sure it's winter fairly.
The birds sit chittering in the thorn,
A' day they fare but sparely ;
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.
Up in the mornings, &c.
VOL. II, 2 F