OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Strand Magazine/Volume 5/Issue 27/Portraits of Celebrities

Layout 4
Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives.
LORD BATTERSEA. Born 1843.
| Age 14. From a Daguerrotype. | Age 40. From a Drawing. |
| Age 21. From a Photo. by Mayland, Cambridge. | Present Day. From a Photograph by Bassano, 25, Old Bond Street, W. |
W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A. Born 1835.
| Age 16. From an Oil Sketch by himself. | Age 44. From a Photograph. |
| Age 35. From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles. | Age ___. From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry. |
LADY HALLÉ.
| Age 10. From a Drawing. | Age ___. From a Photograph. |
| Age ___. From a Photograph. | Age ___. From a Photo. by Burraud. |
SIR CHARLES HALLÉ.
| Age 20. From a Painting. | Age 45. From a Photo. by H. Hering, Regent Street, W. |
| Age 31. From a Painting. | Present Day. From a Photo. by Mayall & Co., 164, New Bond Street, W. |
DR. HERMANN ADLER, CHIEF RABBI. Born 1839.
| Age 24. From a Photograph by McLean & Haes, Haymarket. | Age 44. From a Photograph by Fradella, 246, Regent Street, W. |
| Age 37. From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich. | Present Day. From a Photograph by The Photographic Co. |
SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B. Born 1826.
* Age 47. From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot.
* Present Day. From a Photo. by Barraud.
MADAME JANE HADING.
ADAME JANE HADING, the well-known French actress, was born at Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor, with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little Blanche de Caylus in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in earnest, having won "le prix de solfège" at the Marseille Conservatoire, and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where she created the part of La Chaste Suzanne, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she created the part of Claire de Beaulieu in "Le Maître de Forges." London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her in the very front rank of great artists.
# Ladies' amusements/The ladies' amusements

THE LADIES AMUSEMENTS.
This morning is so very fine, we’ll to the meadows walk, And when we to the town return, with shop-men we will talk. And a shoping we will go.
We’ll look at ribbons, laces, gloves, and none of them we’ll buy, But tell the haberdasher lads, we’ll call another day. And, &c.
Next to the mercers we will haste, we'll teaze their silks a while. And say we're vex’d for troubling them, then leave them with a smile. And, &c.
Hard ware and pretty glittering things, how shall we them refuse; We'll say they're for a country friend, and therefore cannot chuse. And, &c.
Upholsterers shall not escape, at this our grand review ​We'll price their carpets, tables, chairs, their printed hangings too. And, &c.
Some brittle ware we must now see delf, china, glass and stone; We'll say they're crack'd, we’ll say they're dear and of them we'll eae none. And, &c.
Now after we are thus fatigu’d, perfumes will give us ease; We'll visit all the scented shops, but nothing there shall please And, &c.
From shop to shop we’ll range about, till ev’ning’s darkest shades, And when we can no longer see, we must prepare for beds. And, &c.
# Ladies' amusements/Nature's richest mine

NATURE'S RICHEST MINE.
Pursuing beauty, men descry, the distant shore, and long to prove, (still richer in vanity,) the treasure of the land of love.
We women, like weak Indians, stand (illegible text)ting from our golden coast, ​The wand'ring rovers to our land, but she who trades with them is lost.
With humble vows they first begin. stealing, unseen into the heart; But by possession settled in, they quickly act another part.
For beads and baubles we resign, in ignorance our shining store; Discover Nature's richest mine, and yet the tyrants will have more.
Be wise, be wise, and do net try, how he can court or you be won; For love is but discovery, when that is made the pleasure's done.
# Nature's Richest Mine

* "Nature's richest mine", in Ladies' amusements (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Nature's richest mine", in Tom and Polly (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
# Tom and Polly/Nature's richest mine

NATURE'S RICHEST MINE.
Pursuing beauty, men descry, the distint shore, and long to prove, (Still richer in variety), the treasure of the land of love.
We women, like weak indians, stand, inviting, from our golden coast, The wand’ring rovers to our land; but she who trades with them is lost
With humble vows they first begin, stealing unseen, into the heart: But by possession settled in, they quickly act another part.
For beeds and babbles we resign, in ignorance our shining store; Discover Nature's richest Mine, and yet the tyrants will have more.
Be wise, be wise, and do not try,
how he can court, or you be won; For love is but discovery, when that is made the pleasure’s done.
FINIS.
# O'er the Moor Among the Heather

* "O'er the muir amang the heather", in Ladies' amusements (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "O'er the Moor Among the Heather", in The Song Book No. 4 (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
# Herring in Sa't with the Answer/Herring in Sa't

HERRING IN SA'T.
# Herrin in sa't/Herrin in sa't

HERRING IN SALT.
My daddy is dead an' left me some an' lass gin ye loe me tell me tue: An aft times I maun gang to the barn, and I canna win ilka any to woo.
I hae corn will soon be made meal, lass gin ye loe me tell me now, An’ I hae barley to mak some kail, an' I canna come ilka day to woo.
I hae laid three herring in sa't, lass gin ye loe me tell me now, I hae brewn a forpet o' ma’t, and I canna win ilka day to woo.
I hae a calf will soon be a cow, lass gin ye loe me tell me now, I hae a pig will soon be a sow, and I canna come ony mair to woo.
I hae a house on yonder muir, lass gin ye loe me tell me now; Three sparrows may dance upo' the floor, and I canna come ony mair to woo.
​I hae a mare that is coal-black, lass gin ye loe me tell me now; I ride on her neck to save her back, and I canna come ilka day to woo.
I hae a cock that craws fou crouse, lass gin ye loe me tell me now; I hae a cat that will catch a mouse, and I canna come ony mair to woo.
I hae a hen wi' a happity leg, lass gin ye loe me tell me now, Which ilka day lays me an egg, and I canna come ony mair to woo.
I hae a kebbuck upon the shelf, lass gin ye loe me tell me now, I downa eat it a' myself, an I canna come ony mair to woo.
# Herrin in sa't/The mill, mill, o

THE MILL, MILL O.
Beneath a green shade I fand a fair maid, was sleeping sound and still O; A' lowin wi' love my fancy did rove, around her wi’ good will O. Her bosom I prest but sunk in her rest, she stirr'd na my joys to spill O, While kindly she slept close to her I crept, and kiss'd and kiss'd her my fill O.
Obliged by command in Flander to land, t’employ my courage and skill O, Frae her quietly I staw, hoist sails an’ awa, For the wind blew fair on the billow, Twa years brought me hame, when loud-raising Fame, tauld me wi’ a voice right shill O, My lass like a fool had mounted the stool, nor kend wha had done her the ill, O.
Mair fond o' her charm wi' my son in her arms, I ferlying spear'd how she fell, O; Wi' the tear in her ee quo she, let me die, sweet air, gin I can tell, O. ​But love gave command, I took her by the hand, and bade a’ her fears dispel O, And nae mair look vain, for I was the man, wha had done her the deed mysel, O.
My bonny sweet lass, on the gowany grass, beneath the shilling hill, O, If I did offence, I've mak ye amends, before I leave Peggy's mill, O. O the mill mill O and the kill kill O and the coggin o' the weel, O, The sake and sieve, a' that ye maun leave, and round wi' a sodger reel, O.
FINIS.
# The Mill, Mill, O

* "The mill, mill, o", in New garland of choice songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Mill, Mill, O", in Mill, mill, o (1817), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The mill, mill, o", in Herrin in sa't (1825), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Mill, Mill, O", in The Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn (1828), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
# Herrin in sa't/The answer

THE ANSWER.
What care I for your herring in sa't! laddie I like to tell thee true; I care nae a fig for your forpet o' malt; sae ye needna come here that way to woo.
​As little care I for your house is the muir, een that my lad winna bribe me now, Though fifty fouk could dance i' the floor, foul fa' me gin that would bring me to.
Sae brag nae mair o' your buts and your bens, laddie that's no the gate to woo, Though ye had a hunder cocks an hens, they ne'er wad gar me tak ye now.
As for your hen wi' the happity leg, laddie ye're either daft or fou O ye think that I can dine on ae egg? 'deed friend yo're making game o' me now.
Ye say ye've a pig will soon be a sow, laddie I like the truth to tell: When we brag o' a calf that will soon be a cow, I'm flee'd ye’re but a calf yoursel.
An for your kebbuck upo' the shelf, bark an' I’ll tell ye how to do; You maun talk o' naething but love for love, for that's the gate a young lass to woo.
For gin I could think ye liket me weel, laddie l tell you truely now; I wad leave my daddy and minny atweel, and blythly the night gang aff wi’ you.
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)

BANKS OF FORTH.
BET SWEET BLOSSOM.
Braes o’ Lomond.
THE BRAES O' BALLOCHMYLE.
LOWLAND WILLIE.
Nan of Logie green.
ROSLIN CASTLE.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
1820.
* Banks of Forth
* Bet Sweet Blossom
* The Braes O' Lomond
* The Braes O' Ballochmyle
* Lowland Willie
* Nan of Logie Green
* Roslin Castle
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Nan of Logie Green

* "Nan of Logie Green", in Highland Laddie (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Nan o' Logie-Green", in The Linnet (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Nan of Logie Green", in Braes of Birniebouzle (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Nan of Logie Green", in Banks of Forth (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Nan of Logie Green", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Lowland Willie

* "Lowland Willie", in Banks of Forth (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "Lowland Willie", in The Blue Bonnets o'er the Border (1826), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Lowland Willie", in Old man's wish (n.d.), a chapbook with no printing information
# Maryland Chapter 312 - 2023RS

​Chapter 312
(House Bill 370)
AN ACT concerning
6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion Day
SECTION 1. BE IT ENACTED BY THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF MARYLAND, That Section(s) 7–402 through 7–418 of Article – General Provisions of the Annotated Code of Maryland be renumbered to be Section(s) 7–403 through 7–419, respectively.
SECTION 2. AND BE IT FURTHER ENACTED, That the Laws of Maryland read as follows:
Article – General Provisions
7–402.
The Governor annually shall proclaim March 9 as 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion Day in recognition of the service of the women of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion during World War II.
SECTION 3. AND BE IT FURTHER ENACTED, That this Act shall take effect October 1, 2023.
Approved by the Governor, May 3, 2023.
This work is in the public domain in the U.S. because it is an edict of a government, local or foreign. See § 313.6(C)(2) of the Compendium II: Copyright Office Practices. Such documents include "legislative enactments, judicial decisions, administrative rulings, public ordinances, or similar types of official legal materials" as well as "any translation prepared by a government employee acting within the course of his or her official duties."
These do not include works of the Organization of American States, United Nations, or any of the UN specialized agencies. See Compendium III § 313.6(C)(2) and 17 U.S.C. 104(b)(5).
A non-American governmental edict may still be copyrighted outside the U.S. Similar to {{PD-in-USGov}}, the above U.S. Copyright Office Practice does not prevent U.S. states or localities from holding copyright abroad, depending on foreign copyright laws and regulations.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Braes o' Ballochmyle

* "The Braes O' Ballochmyle", in Banks of Forth (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Braes o' Ballochmyle", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
* "The Braes o' Ballochmyle", in The Poetical Works of Robert Burns (1887), edited by Alexander Smith
# The Braes o' Lomond

* "The Braes o' Lomand", in The Linnet (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "The Braes O' Lomond", in Banks of Forth (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Braes o' Lomond", in Select collection No. XXX (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Braes o' Lomond", in Beneath the Willow Tree (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/Banks of Forth

BANKS OF FORTH.
Awake my love with genial ray, The sun returning glads the day, Awake, the balmy, zephyr blows, The hawthorn blooms, the daisie glows, The trees retain their verdant pride, The turtle wooes his tender bride, To love each warbler tunes the song, And Forth in dimples glides alongr.
O more than blooming daisies fair More fragrant than the vernal air, More gentle than the turtle dove, Or streams that murmur through the grove Bethink that all is on the wing, These pleasures wait on wasting spring Then come, the transient bliss enjoy; Nor terr what sleets so first will cloy.
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/Bet Sweet Blossom

BET SWEET BLOSSOM.
No more I'll court the town-bred fair, Who shines in artificial beauty; For native charms without compare, Claim all my love, respect, and duta.
​Oh! my bonny Bet, sweet blossom Was I a king so proud to wear thee, From off the verdant couch I'd bear thee, To grace thy faithful lover's bosom
Yet ask me where those beauties lie I cannot say in smile or dimple, In blooming cheek or redient eye, 'Tis happy nature wild and simple. Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.
Let dainty beaux for ladies pine, And sigh in numbers trite and common; Ye gods! one darling wish be mine, And all I ask is lovely woman. Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.
Come dearest girl the rosy bowl, Like thy bright eye with pleasure dancing; My heaven art thou so take my soul, With rapture every sense entrancing. Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/The Braes O' Lomond

THE BRAES O’ LOMOND.
Twas on a Friday afternoon, I took a trip aboon Glenfroin, To see a concert there begin, amang the braes o' Lomond. That day the snaw lay on the braes, Bright Phœbus had withdrawn his rays,
​And winter had put on her claithes, amang the braes o' Lomond.
But tho’ without was wet and cauld, Within we were baith blythe and bauld, Wi’ vocal strains frae young and auld, amang the braes o' Lomond. For the braw lasses o' the glen (But for their names I dinna ken) They danc'd and sang till I grew fain, amang the braes o' Lomond.
Their vocal strains were sweet and rare, Nought wi' their dancing could compare, Assembly balls are naething mair, than concerts at Lomond. For a' the youths were dress'd sae gay, Their music did so sweetly play, That ilka heart, till break of day, rejoic'd about Lochlomond.
Poetic fire can scarce describe Their beauty a' without a bribe, And justice gi'e to ilka tribe, amang the braes o' Lomond. For me, I frankly this will say, Should men endure on earth for ay, I'd freely spend perpetual day, amang the braes o' Lomond.
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/The Braes O' Ballochmyle

THE BRAES O' BALLOCHMYLE.
The Cairine woods were yellow seen, The flowers decay'd on Catrine lea;
​Nae lavrock sang on hillock green, But nature sicken'd on the e'e. Through faded groves Maria sang Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while, An' ay the wild wood echoes rang, Fareweel the braes o' Ballochmyle.
Low in your wintry beds. ye flowers, Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair, Ye burdies dumb in withering bowers, Again ye'll charm the vocal air: But here, alas! for me nae mair, Shall birdie charm or floweret smile; Fare weel the bonny banks of Air, Fareweel! fareweel sweet Ballochmyle.
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/Lowland Willie

LOWLAND WILLIE.
When o'er the downs at early day, my lowland Willie hied him, With joy I drove my cows that way, In milking to abide him.
My bonny, bonny lowland Will, My bonny lowland Willie, My bonny bonny lowland Will, My bonny lowland Willie.
'Twas o'er the downs he first began, to tell how well he lov'd me;
​Could I refuse the charming man? ah! no, his passion mov’d me. My bonny, bonny, &c.
My Willie's love to me is joy, I own it soon believe me; To kirk I’ll hie wi' my bonny boy for he will ne'er deceive me. My bonny, bonny, &c.
# The Book of Scottish Song/The Banks of Forth

The Banks of Forth.
[The tune called "The Banks of Forth" was composed by Oswald, and published in 1741. We cannot say whether the following song, which appears in Herd's collection, 1776, is the original one to which the air was adapted or not. Its author is unknown. In the same collection (Herd's) is another song to the same tune, beginning,
"Ye sylvan powers that rule the plain, Where sweetly winding Fortha glides, Conduct me to these banks again, Since there my charming Molly bides."
But it is unnecessary to quote it, as it has nothing particularly to recommend it, and it is long.]
Awake, my love! with genial ray, The sun returning glads the day. Awake! the balmy zephyr blows, The hawthorn blooms, the daisy glows, The trees regain their verdant pride, The turtle woos his tender bride; To love each warbler tunes the song, And Forth in dimples glides along. ​Oh, more than blooming daisies fair! More fragrant than the vernal air! More gentle than the turtle dove, Or streams that murmur through the grove! Bethink thee all is on the wing, These pleasures wait on wasting spring; Then come, the transient bliss enjoy, Nor fear what fleets so fast will cloy.
# Banks of Forth

* "Banks of Forth", in Banks of Forth (1820), a chapbook printed in Edinburgh
* "The Banks of Forth", in The Book of Scottish Song (1843), edited by Alexander Whitelaw
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/Nan of Logie Green

NAN OF LOGIE GREEN.
By pleasure long infected, Kind heaven when least expected My devious path directed to Nan of Logie green; Where thousand sweets repose 'em In quiet's unruffled bosom, I found my peerless blossom, the pride of Logie green.
The city Belle, perchance, ay, Will blame my youthful fancy, But she ne'er saw my Nancy the pride of Logie green. Her cheek the vermeil rose is, Her smile a heaven discloses, No lily leaf that blows is, so fair on Logie green.
Ye town bred fair forgive me, Your arms must ne'er receive me,
​Your charms are all believe me eclipsed on Logie green. Forgive my passion tender, Heaven so much grace did lend her, And made my heart surrender to Nan of Logie green.
No more the town delights me, Its noisy tumult frights me, I'll go where love invites me, to Nan of Logie green. My heart shall ne'er deceive her, I ne'er in life shall leave her, In love and peace for ever, we'll live on Logie green.
# Banks of Forth (1820, Edinburgh)/Roslin Castle

ROSLIN CASTLE.
’Twas in that season of the year, When all things gay and sweet appear, That Colin with the morning ray, Arose and sung his rural lay. Of Nanny's charms the shepherd sung; The hills and dales with Nanny rung: While Roslin Castle heard the swain, And echo'd back the cheerful strain.
Awake sweet muse, the breathing spring, With rapture warms; awake, and sing; Awake, and join the vocal throng, And hail the morning with a song,
​To Nancy raise the cheerful lay, O bid her haste and come away; In sweetest smiles herself adorn, And add new graces to the morn.
O hark, my love! on ev'ry spray, Each feather'd warbler tunes his lay; 'Tis beauty fires the ravish'd throng, And love inspires the melting song. Then let my ravish'd notes arise, For beauty darts from Nanny's eyes; And love my rising bosom warms, And fills my soul with sweet alarms.
O come, my love, thy Colin's lay, With rapture calls, Oh! come away; Come, while the muse this wreath shall twine, Around the modest brow of thine, O hither haste, and with thee bring, That beauty, blooming like the spring; Those graces that divinely shine, And charm this ravish'd heart of mine.
F I N I S.
# Bleak House (1853)

FRONTISPIECE.
BLEAK HOUSE.
BY
CHARLES DICKENS.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. K. BROWNE.
LONDON :
BRADBURY AND EYANS, 11, BOUVERIE STEEET.
1853.
LONDON :
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
DEDICATED,
AS A REMEMBRANCE OF OUR FRIENDLY UNION,
TO MY COMPANIONS
IN THE
GUILD OF LITERATURE AND ART.
Contents.
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Merry Muses of Caledonia/Duncan Gray

DUNCAN GRAY.
* An old song. Burns's purified version is well known. Another version, beginning "Weary fa' ye, Duncan Gray," more on the lines of the original, is ascribed erroneously by some editors to Burns. It will be found in Scott Douglas's Kilmarnock Edition (Vol. I., p. 221).
Can ye play me Duncan Gray,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't,
O'er the hills an' far awa',
Ha, ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
Duncan came our Meg to woo,
Meg was nice and wadna do,
But like an ether puff'd and blew
At offer o' the girdin' o't.   Duncan, he cam' here again,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
A' was out an' Meg her lane,
Ha, ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
He kiss'd her butt, he kiss'd her ben,
He bang'd a thing against her wame;
But, troth, I now forget its name,
But, I trow, she gat the girdin' o't.   She took him to the cellar then,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't,
To see gif he could do't again,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
He kiss'd her ance, he kiss'd her twice,
An' maybe Duncan kiss'd her thrice,
Till deil a mair the thing wad rise,
To gie her the lang girdin' o't.   But Duncan took her to his wife,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
To be the comfort o' his life,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
An' now she scauls baith night an' day,
Except when Duncan's at the play;
An' that's as seldom as he may,
He's weary o' the girdin' o't.
# The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Naebody

NAEBODY.
# The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Song of Death

SONG OF DEATH.
A GAELIC AIR.
Scene.—A field of battle. Time of the day—Evening. The wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the song.
# The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/My ain kind Dearie O

MY AIN KIND DEARIE O.
# The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Auld Rob Morris

AULD ROB MORRIS.
# The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing

MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING.
# The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Duncan Gray

DUNCAN GRAY.
# New garland of choice songs/Duncan Gray

Duncan Gray.
DUNCAN GRAY cam’ here to woo, ha, ha, the wooing o’t, On new-year’s day when we were fou, ha, ha, the wooing o’t; Maggie coost her head fu’ high, Look’d asklent and unca skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh, ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
Duncan fleech’d, and Duncan pray’d, ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Meg was deaf as Ailsa craig, ha, ha, the wooing o’t; Duncan fidg’d baith out an’ in, Grat his e’en baith blear’d and blin’, Spak’ o’ louping o'er a lin, ha, ha, the wooing o’t.
​Time and chance are but a tide, ha, ha the wooing o’t, Slighted love is sair to bide, ha ha the wooing o‘t; Shall I, like a fool quoth he, For a haughty hussy die; She may gae to France for me, ha, ha the wooing o’t.
How it comes, let doctors tell, ha, ha, the woo ng o t, Meg grew sick as he grew well, ha, ha, the wooing o't, Something in her bosom rings, For relief a sigh she brings. And oh, her een they spak sic things, ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan was a lad o‘ grace, ha, ha, the wooing o't Maggy's was a ticklish case, ha, ha, the wooing o't; Duncan could na be her death, Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath , Now they're crouse and canty baith ha, ha‘ the wooing o't