'O, Tullochgorum's my delight;

It gars us a' in ane unite;

And ony sumph that keeps up spite,

In conscience I abhor him.
For blithe and merry we's be a',
Blithe and merry, blithe and merry,
Blithe and merry we's be a',

And mak' a cheerfu' quorum.
Blithe and merry we's be a',
As lang as we hae breath to draw,
And dance, till we be like to fa',

The reel of Tullochgorum.
'There need na be sae great a phraise,
Wi' dringing dull Italian lay's;
I wadna gi'e our ain strathspeys

For half a hundred score o' 'em.
They're douff and dowie at the best,
Douff and dowie, douff and dowie ;
They're douff and dowie at the best,
Wi' a' their variorum.
They're douff and dowie at the best,
Their allegros, and a' the rest;
They canna please a Highland taste,
Compar'd wi' Tulluohgorum.

'Let warldly minds themselves oppress
Wi' fear of want and double cess,
And sullen sots themselves distress
Wi' keeping up decorum.
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Sour and sulky, sour and sulky,-

Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,

Like auld Philosophorum?
Shall we sae sour and sulky sit,
Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit,
And canna rise to shake a fit

To the reel of Tullochgorum?
'May choicest blessings still attend
Each honest-hearted open friend;
May calm and quiet be his end,

And a' that's good watch o'er him! May peace and plenty be his lot, Peace and plenty, peace and plenty; May peace and plenty be his lot,

And dainties, a great store o' 'em!
May peace and plenty be his lot,
Unstain'd by any vicious blot;
And may he never want a groat,

That's fond of Tullochgorum.
'But for the discontented fool,
Who wants to be oppression's tool,
May envy gnaw his rotten soul,

And discontent devour him!
May dool and sorrow be his chance,
Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow ;-
May dool and sorrow be his chance,

And nane say, Wae's me for 'im! May dool and sorrow be his chance, And a' the ills that come frae France, Whae'er he be that winna dance The reel of Tullochgorum !'

Moderato.

be

keep a seat, and may

Charlie.

Al

Although my heart is unco sair

And lies fu' lowly in its lair, Yet the last drap o' blude that's there, I'll gie for bonnie Charlie.

Adagio.

my mis- for- tins from the

did

grow, did grow, did grow, Such

For when I was a little boy, at two or three years old,

The people all admir'd me, as I have since been told, Such a beauty I did grow!

My Mother, she was frightful as the sun wou'd tan my skin, [my very chin, So she slouch'd my hat o'er eyes and all,-down to Such a beauty I did grow!

Then I were sent to school, in another year or two; But I ne'er cou'd larn my letters,-folks they made so much a-do,

Such a beauty I did grow!

But, as for edication, Mother said as that were naught;

For the lad cou'd make his fortin, ay! as quick, as quick, as thought!

Such a beauty I did grow!

Yet, ere I came to man's estate, my chance were a'most gone,

For among so mony lasses, I cou'd never fix on one, Such a beauty I did grow!

Then the girls pretend to hate me, lord! the cause were plain to see; [o' me, 'Twere such a disadvantage, when they stood beside Such a beauty I did grow!

O! the plague of being handsome there's but very few as knows;

I cou'dn't walk about, but folks cried, 'Look! seethere he goes!'

Such a beauty I did grow.

Some said it were a shame I wasn't made a prince's page; [stage! And some said I were fitter to be-show'd up on a Such a beauty I did grow!

So, tir'd quite wi' being praised (upon my life, it's true),

I wish'd mysen as ugly-ay! as-any one o' you, Such a beauty I did grow!

Thus, teas'd and vex'd on all sides-lord! what cou'd a body do? [see me now,

I fretted sick, and made mysen-just-what you Such a beauty I did grow!

ho, ri tol fol de rid-dle di do, ri tol Board man-of-war I enter'd next, and learn'd to quaff good flip,

And far from home we scudded on so gay: I ran my rigs, but lik'd so well my captain, crew, and ship, [away.

That, run what will, why-damme if ever I run Singing, ri tol, &c. With Drake I've sail'd the world around, and learn'd a bit to fight,

But somehow I a prisoner was ta'en;

In vain I'm always striving

To make our diff'rence cease:

If you're disputes contriving, And will not live in peace,No, no!

You will not live in peace :
I'm vex'd, dear sir, for you,
But say, what can I do?
To none I can complain,-
How cruel is my pain!

I know that you believe, &c.