( 8 )
Then they made what they call'd of their wine a libation
Which, as all authority quotes:
They threw on the ground—muſha, what boderation,
To be ſure twas not thrown down their throats,
To be ſure was not thrown down their throats.
With your ſmalliliow nonſenſe, and all your queer bod-
Since Whiſky's a liquor divine: (drens
To be ſure the old ancients as well as the moderns,
Did not love a ſly ſup of good wine;
Did not love a ſly ſup of good wine.
THE YELLOW-HAIR'D LADDIE.
IN April, when primroſes paint the ſweet plain,
And ſummer approaching rejoiceth the ſwain;
The Yellow hair'd Laddie would often times go
To wilds and deep glens, where the hawthorn trees grow.
There, under the ſhade of an old ſacred thorn,
With freedom he ſung his loves ev'ning and morn:
He ſang with ſo ſaft and inchanting a ſound,
That Sylvans and Fairies unſeen danced around.
The ſhepherd thus ſung, Tho' young Maya be fair:
Her beauty is daſh'd with a ſcornfu' proud air;
But Suſie was handſome, and ſweetly could ſing,
Her breath like the breezes perfum'd in the ſpring.
That Madie in all the gay bloom of her youth,
Like the moon was unconſtant, and never ſpoke truth,
But Suſie wat faithful good-humoured and free;
And fair as the Goddeſs who ſprung from the ſea.
That mama's fine danghter with all her great dow'r
Was awkwardly airy, and frequently ſowr:
Then, ſighing, he wiſh'd, wou'd parents agree,
The witty ſweet Suſie his miſtreſs might be.
GLASGOW
PRINTED BY J. & M. ROBERTSON, (No. 20.) Saltmarket
1809
