Our dadies and our mammies thay,

Were fill'd wi' mickle joy, To think upon the bridall day, Twixt me and Gilderoy.

For Gilderoy that luve of mine,
Gude faith, I freely bought
A wedding fark of holland fine,
Wi' filken flowers wrought:
And he gied me a wedding ring,
Which I receiv'd wi' joy,
Naelad nor laffe eir could fing,
Like me and Gilderoy.

Wi' mickle joy we spent our prime,
Till we were baith fixteen,
And aft we paffed the langfome time,
Among the leaves fae green;
Aft on the banks we'd fit us thair,
And fweetly kifs and toy,

Wi' garlands gay wad deck my hair
My handsome Gilderoy.

Oh! that he ftill had been content,
Wi' me to lead his life,

But, ah! his manfu' heart was bent,
To flir in feates of ftrife:

And he in many a venturous deed,

His courage bauld wad try,

And now this gars mine heart to bleed, For my dear Gilderoy.

And when of me his leave he tuik,
The tears they wat mine ee,

I gave tull him a parting luik,

66

My benison gang wi' thee!

God fpeed the weil, mine ain dear heart,

For gane is all my joy;

My heart is rent fith we maun part,
My handfome Gilderoy."

My Gilderoy baith far and near,

Was fear'd in every toun,
And bauldly bare away the gear,

Of many a lawland loun;

Nane eir durft meet him man to man,

He was fae brave a boy,

At length wi' numbers he was tane.
My winfome Gilderoy..

Wae worth the loon that made the laws,

To hang a man for gear,

To 'reave of life for ox or afs,

For fheep, or horfe, or mare:

Had not their laws been made fae flick,

I neir had loft my joy,

Wi' forrow neir had wat my cheek,
For my dear Gilderoy.

Giff Gilderoy had done amiffe,
He mought hae banisht been,

Ah! what fair cruelty is this,

To hang fike handsome men:
To hang the flower o' Scottish land,
Sae fweet and fair a boy;
Nae lady had fae white a hand,
As thee my Gilderoy.

Of Gilderoy fae fraid they were,
They bound him mickle ftrong,
Tull Edenburrow they led him thair,
And on a gallows hung:

They hung him high aboon the reft,

He was fae trim a boy,

Thair dyed the youth whom I lued beft, My handfome Gilderoy.

Thus having yielded up his breath,

I bare his corpfe away,

Wi' tears, that trickled for his death,
I washt his comlye clay ;

And fiker in a grave fae deep,

I laid the dear-lued boy,

And now for evir maun I weep,
My winfome Gilderoy.

A

WINIFREDA;

WAY; let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move your care;

Let nought delay the heavenly bleffing,
Nor fqueamish pride, nor gloomy fear.

What tho' no grants of royal donors
With pompous titles grace our blood:
We'll fhine in more fubftantial honors,
And to be noble we'll be good.

Our name, while virtue thus we tender,
Will fweetly found where-e'er 'tis spoke:
And all the great ones, they fhall wonder
How they refpect fuch little folk.

What though from fortune's lavish bounty
No mighty treasures we poffefs,
We'll find within our pittance plenty,,
And be content without excefs.

Still fhall each returning season
Sufficient for our wishes give;
For we will live a life of reafon,

And that's the only life to live.

Through youth and age in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread;
Sweet-fmiling peace fhall crown our dwelling,
And babes, sweet-fmiling babes, our bed.

How fhould I love the pretty creatures,
While round my knees they fondly clung;
To fee them look their mother's features,
To hear them lifp their mother's tongue.

And, when with envy time transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go a wooing with my boys.