(6)
Should the army of England, or all they could bring, land,
We’d shew ’em some play for the Island.
We’d fight for our right to the Island,
We’d give ’em enough of the Island;
Frenchmen should just—bite at our dust,
But not a bit more of the Island.
JENNY’S BAWBEE.
I met four chaps yon birks amang,
Wi’ hanging lug, and faces lang.
I speer’d at niebour Baldy Strang,
What are they these we see?
Quoth he Ilk cream-fac’d pawky chiel,
Thinks himsell cunning as the de'il,
And here they cam awa to steal
Jenny’s bawbee.
The first, a Captain to his trade,
Wi’ ill lin’d scull, and back well clad,
March’d roun’ the barn, and bye the shed,
And papped on his knee:
Quoth he, My bonny nymph and queen,
Your beauty’s dazzl’d baith my een:
But feint a beauty he had seen
But Jenny’s bawbee.
