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‹‹‹ prev (390) Page 368Page 368My love she's but a lassie yet

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(391) Page 369 - Toast
369
The winds drifting hail and sna'.
O'er frozen hags, like a foot-ba' ;
Nae starns keek through the azure sllt^
*Tis cauld, and mirk as ony pit.
The man i' the moon
Is carousing aboon ;
D* ye see, d' ye see, d' ye see him yet.
The man, &c.
Take your glass to clear your een,
*Tis the elixir heals the spleen,
Baith wit and mirth it will inspire.
And gently puffs the lover's fire.
Up in the air.
It drives away care ;
Ha'e wi' ye, ha'e wi' ye, and ha'e wi' ye, lads, yet.
Up in, &c.
Steek the doors, keep out the frost ;
Come, Willie, gi'es about your toast;
Til't, lads, and lilt it out.
And let us ha'e a blythsome bout.
Up wi't there, there,
Dinna cheat, but drink fair :
Huzza, huzza, and huzza, lads, yet.
Up wi't, &c.
THE TOAST.
Tune—iSaw ye my Peggy,
Come let's ha'e mair wine in^
Bacchus hates repining^
Venus loves nae dwining.
Let* s be blyth and free.
VOL, II. 2 X

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