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⟨Dear⟩ Bessy Bell and Mary Gray,
Ye unco sair oppress us;
⟨Our⟩ fancies jee between us twae,
Ye are sic bonnie lasses;
Waes me, for baith I canna get,
To ane by law we're stented;
Then I'll draw cuts, and tak my fate,
And be with ane contented.
SCOTIA’S SONS.
Tune—Andro and his cutty gun.
Blythe, blythe, aroun’ the nappy,
Let us join in social glee;
While we re here we'll hae a drappy,
Scotia’s sons hae ay been free.
⟨Our⟩ auld forbears, when owre their gill,
And cantie bickers roun' did ca',
Forsooth' they cried, 'anither gill,
For sweer't we ⟨are⟩ to gang awa.’
Blythe, blythe, &c.
⟨Some⟩ heartie cock would then hae sang
