OpenLLM-France/wikimedia huggingface dataset:
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/There's Not a Friend

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| | There's Not a Friend | 209 |
| | (NO,NOT ONE ) | 209 |
| Johnson Oatman, Jr. George C. Hugg |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* There's not a friend like the lowly Jesus, No, not one! no, not one! None else could heal all our soul's diseases, No, not one! no, not one! Refrain Jesus knows all about our struggles, He will guide till the day is done, There's not a friend like the lowly Jesus, No, not one! no, not one! (Last verseAmen.)
* No friend like him is so high and holy, No, not one! no, not one! And yet no friend is so meek and lowly, No, not one! no, not one! Refrain
* There's not an hour that he is not near us, No, not one! no, not one! No night so dark but his love can cheer us, No, not one! no, not one! Refrain
* Did ever saint find this friend forsake him? No, not one! no, not one! Or sinner find that he would not take him? No, not one! no, not one! Refrain
* Was e'er a gift like the Saviour given ? No, not one! no, not one! Will he refuse us a home in heaven? No, not one! no, not one! Refrain
Copyright, 1890, by Geo. C. Hugg. Used by permission
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Man of Sorrows

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* There Is a Green Hill Far Away
* Beneath the Cross of Jesus
* When I Survey the Wondrous Cross
* In the Cross of Christ I Glory
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Winning Fight Is Always to the Right

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| 228 | The Winning Fight Is Always to the Right |
| 228 | (A WINNING FIGHT Irregular) |
| Edna R. Worrell C. Harold Lowden |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* The win -ning fight is al-ways to the right, When life's great wars with e - vil once be - gin For those who trust the Lord in all his might Can shout: 'We'll Win!' CHORUS We have a long, hard fight, but we'll win We'll win, o'er sin, We're on the Lord's side, We're on the right side, And we must sure-ly win.
* When sin as - sails the cour-age oft - en fails, And base sur - ren - der tempts the soul with-in, But Christ's own ar - mor ev-ery wher pre-vails, Praise God we'll win Chorus
* With eyes turned t' ward our ev - er conquering Lord. Our faith the shield to quench the darts of sin, And with his ho - ly Spi it for a sword, 'Tis true ; we'll win Chorus
* Then let our cry ring up-ward to the sky, Ring loud - er still than con-flicts fear-ful din, A shout of tri- umph ech - o -ing on high: 'We'll win! we' win!' Chorus A-men
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Word of God

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# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Life Victorious

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* O Mother Dear, Jerusalem
* Jerusalem the Golden
* Ten Thousand Times Ten Thousand
* Hark, Hark, My Soul!
* For All the Saints
* Sunset and Evening Star
* Children of the Heavenly King
* Now the Laborer's Task Is O'er
* Some Day the Silver Chord
* When the Trumpet of the Lord Shall Sound
* One Sweetly Solemn Thought
* Not Now, But in the Coming Years
* Shall We Gather at the River
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Lord's Supper

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* I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord
* Jesus, with Thy Church Abide
* Glorious Things of Thee are Spoken
* The Church's One Foundation
* Faith of Our Fathers, Living Still
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Lord's Day

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* Safely Through Another Week
* O Day of Rest and Gladness
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Lord Is My Shepherd

* The Lord is my Shep-herd; no want shall I Know. I feed in green pastures, safe folded I rest He leadeth my soul where the still waters flow, Re-stores me when wand-'ring, re-deems when op-prest, Re-stores me when wand-'ring, re-deems when op-prest.
* Thro' val-ley and shad-ow of death though I stray Since thou art my Guar-dian, no e-vil I fear; Thy rod shall de-fend me, thy staff be my stay; No harm can be-fall me, my Com-fort-er near, No harm can be-fall me, my Com-fort-er near.
* Let good-ness and mer-cy, my boun-ti-ful God, Still follow my steps till I meet thee a-bove; I seek by the path which my fore-fa-thers trod, Thro' lands of thier so-journ, thy king-dom of love, Thro' lands of thier so-journ, thy king-dom of love. A-men
# The Army and Navy Hymnal/Hymns/The Morning Light is Breaking

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| 164 | The Morning Light is Breaking |
| 164 | (WEBB. 7,6,7,6,D.) |
| Samuel F Smith, 1839 George J. Webb, 1830 |||
| A musical score should appear at this position in the text. See Help:Sheet music for formatting instructions |||
* The morning light is breaking, The darkness disappears; The sons of earth are waking To penitential tears; Each breeze that sweeps the ocean Brings tidings from afar, Of nations in commotion, Prepared for Zion's war.
* See heathen nations bending Before the God we love, And thousand hearts ascending In gratitude above; While sinners, now confessing, The gospel call obey, And seek the Saviour's blessing, A nation in a day.
* Blest river of salvation, Pursue thine onward way; Flow thou to every nation, Nor in thy richness stay; Stay not till all the lowly Triumphant reach their home; Stay not till all the holy Proclaim, 'The Lord is come!' Amen.
# The Analysis of Mind

* information about this edition.
* sister projects: Wikidata item.

## CONTENTS

* Preface
* Lecture I: Recent Criticisms of "Consciousness"
* Lecture II: Instinct and Habit
* Lecture III: Desire and Feeling
* Lecture IV: Influence of Past History on Present Occurrences in Living Organisms
* Lecture V: Psychological and Physical Causal Laws
* Lecture VI: Introspection
* Lecture VII: The Definition of Perception
* Lecture VIII: Sensations and Images
* Lecture IX: Memory
* Lecture X: Words and Meaning
* Lecture XI: General Ideas and Thought
* Lecture XII: Belief
* Lecture XIII: Truth and Falsehood
* Lecture XIV: Emotions and Will
* Lecture XV: Characteristics of Mental Phenomena
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1970, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 53 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Anaconda v. American Sugar Refining Company

United States Supreme Court
322 U.S. 42
The Anaconda v. American Sugar Refining Company
Argued: March 29, 1944. --- Decided: April 24, 1944
Mr. Cody Fowler, of Tampa, Fla., for petitioners.
Mr. Henry N. Longley, of New York City, for respondent.
Mr. Justice ROBERTS delivered the opinion of the Court.

## Notes

This work is in the public domain in the United States because it is a work of the United States federal government (see 17 U.S.C. 105).
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Anacreontic Song

Also referred to by its incipit "To Anacreon in Heaven". The tune to which it is sung was composed by John Stafford Smith and was later used as the tune for the American national anthem "The Star-Spangled Banner".
The
ANACREONTIC SONG
as Sung at the Crown and Anchor Tavern in the Strand
the Words by
RALPH TOMLINSON ESQ R, late President of that SOCIETY.
————————Price 6d.————————
LONDON
Printed by Longman and Broderip. No 26, Cheapside and No 13, Hay Market
* 1
* To ANACREON in Heav'n, where he sat in full Glee,
* A few Sons of Harmony sent a Petition,
* That He their Inspirer and Patron wou'd be;
* When this Answer arriv'd from the JOLLY OLD GRECIAN
* "Voice, Fiddle, and Flute,
* "No longer be mute,
* "I'll lend you my Name and inspire you to boot,
* "And, besides, I'll instruct you like me, to intwine
* "The Myrtle of VENUS with BACCHUS's Vine.
* 2
* The news through OLYMPUS immediately flew;
* When OLD THUNDER pretended to give himself Airs_
* If these Mortals are suffer'd their Scheme to pursue,
* The Devil a Goddess will stay above Stairs.
* "Hark! already they cry,
* "In Transports of Joy
* "Away to the Sons of ANACREON we'll fly,
* "And there, with good Fellows, we'll learn to intwine
* "The Myrtle of VENUS with BACCHUS'S Vine.
* 3
* "The YELLOW-HAIR'D GOD and his nine fusty Maids
* "From HELICON'S Banks will incontinent flee,
* "IDALIA will boast but of tenantless Shades,
* "And the bi-forked Hill a mere Desart will be
* "My Thunder, no fear on't,
* "Shall soon do it's Errand,
* "And, dam'me! I'll swinge the Ringleaders I warrant,
* "I'll trim the young Dogs, for thus daring to twine
* "The Myrtle of VENUS with BACCHUS'S Vine.
* 4
* APOLLO rose up; and said, "Pr'ythee ne'er quarrel,
* "Good King of the Gods with my Vot'ries below:
* "Your Thunder is useless_then, shewing his Laurel,
* Cry'd. "Sic evitabile fulmen, you know!
* "Then over each Head
* "My Laurels I'll spread
* "So my Sons from your Crackers no Mischief shall dread,
* "Whilst snug in their Club-Room, they Jovially twine
* "The Myrtle of VENUS with BACCHUS'S Vine.
* 5
* Next MOMUS got up, with his risible Phiz,
* And swore with APOLLO he'd cheerfull join_
* "The full Tide of Harmony still shall be his,
* "But the Song, and the Catch, & the Laugh shall bemine
* "Then, JOVE, be not jealous
* Of these honest Fellows,
* Cry'd JOVE, "We relent, since the Truth you now tell us;
* "And swear, by OLD STYX, that they long shall entwine
* "The Myrtle of VENUS with BACCHUS'S Vine.
* 6
* Ye Sons of ANACREON, then, join Hand in Hand;
* Preserve Unanimity, Friendship, and Love!
* 'Tis your's to support what's so happily plann'd;
* You've the Sanction of Gods, and the FIAT of JOVE.
* While thus we agree
* Our Toast let it be.
* May our Club flourish happy, united and free!
* And long may the Sons of ANACREON intwine
* The Myrtle of VENUS with BACCHUS'S Vine.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Bennachie budget/The "Occasional" of the Excise

THE “OCCASIONAL” OF THE EXCISE.
Tune—“The Exciseman.”
What’s brewed an’ stilled maun aye be swilled, Your drouth we ne’er despise, man; An’ thanks we’ll vent, since Parli’ment O’er Bailies set th’ Exciseman. Chorus—He’s nae awa, fair be his fa’, Nor like to gang, the wise man; While drink can rax spontaneous tax, The State will back the Exciseman.
The Bailiehood, in bardach mood, May gie their wigs a hyse, man, An’ daur our youth to sloke their drouth, As we had nae Exciseman. Chorus.—He nae awa, fair be his fa’, &c.
But dames an’ chiels may crack their heels, An’ hooch till morn surprise men; An’ never fear, they’ll want the gear, As lang’s we’ve kind Excisemen. Chorus.—He’s nae awa, fair be his fa’, &c.
Tho’ Temp’rance sends her tonguey friends The Trade to stigmatise, man; Yet Bailies’ power to stint your hour Is Baffled by th’ Exciseman. Chorus.—He’s nae awa, fair be his fa’, &c.
Then dance an’ drink, till doon ye clink, Nor schape in haste to risé, man; An’ for the joys o’ midnight ploys, Drink “Luck to the Exciseman!” Chorus.—He’s nae awa, fair be his fa’, &c.
FINIS
# The Bennachie budget

THE
BENNACHIE BUDGET:
CONTAINING
THE STRAYED OX:
STAP THE FLOOD’S WALL-E’E;
TENANT-RIGHT;
HUNTLY’S BLESSIN’;
AND
THE “OCCASIONAL” OF THE EXCISE
FINTRAY:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.
1879.
* The Strayed Ox
* Stap the Flood's Wall-E'e
* Tenant-Right
* Huntly's Blessin'
* The "Occasional" of the Excise
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Bennachie budget/Tenant-Right

TENANT-RIGHT.
Tune—"Wha wadna fecht for Charlie?"
Aberdeenshire, height an’ hallow, Needs a fouth o farmin’brain; Here the soil is deep—there shallow— This cries trench, an’ that cries drain.
Yet, when Harvest waves her tresses, Scatt’rin’ gowd o’er Gerrie’s lands, Aberdeen the prospect blesses— There her well-pang'd Girnal stands!
Wonderfu’ the change on Buchan, Since the fires in Bruce’s day! Slowly grew the tree an’ clachan, Marking Labour’s toilsome way.
Farms extended-rents were doubled— Planting rose in stately ranks; Till the game, in funz untroubled, Swarmed in hills an’ sandy banks.
First the land was let for labour, Then the same was let for game, Till this “begg’rin’ o’ my neighbour” Gart Conservatives cry “shame!”
Farmers aft to London trudgin’, Cried—“Preserve us frae this game!” But the Culprits ruled the judgin’, And ignored the Plaintiffs’ claim.
​Aberdeenshire donned her armour, Would not stand outside the door; Boldly sent a Tenant-Farmer, Rousing Justice from her snore.
But the man who once had furrowed Reeskie rig for seanty braird, Bought the land he sowed an’ harrowed, So the Tenant turned a Laird,
Must our rights fa’ wi’ the tiller, And our prospects end in fog? Must our hopes o’ vested siller Sink like spunkie i’ the bog?
Mars rushed frae the braes o’ Learny, Esculapius Finzean plied; But a cry frae Mar to Cairnie Bade the gallant Gordon guide!
Douglas Gordon yet is youthfu’, But that fault will daily mend; Like the Gordons, wise and truthfu', May their God his footsteps fend!
May his course be long and steady,
Brightly blow the buds of youth;
Thro' life's stream, may turbid eddy
Ne'er betray a stilled truth!
# The Bennachie budget/Huntly's Blessin'

HUNTLY’S BLESSIN’.
Tune—“Maggy Lauder.”
At Vict’lers’ feast, o’er sparklin’ glass, Lord Huntly, thanks expressin’, Declared, that the workin’ class In Publics found a Blessin’! ​In smoky toun, or valley green, When stent or tax is pressin’, Where could the sons o’ toil convene, If nae in Huntly’s Blessin’?
There wages they discuss an’ spend, Tho’ drink is trade depressin; Then give their wives, their fare to mend, A kick frae Huntly’s Blessin’? In filth an rags their offspring slouch, The neighbours sair oppressin’; While fathers fill the tapster’s pouch, For waughts in Huntly’s Blessin’?
Tho’ Boards may big an’ garnish schools, The sober folk assessin’; Yet drunkards bairns will stand like snools Depraved thro’ Huntly’s Blessin’? The Preacher warns, an fervent prays, The nation’s sins confessin’; But tipplers scorn his sober says, Inspired by Huntly’s Blessin’?
Young men an' maids, thro’ a’ the land, Are Hymen’s torch depressin’; But drink an' dance go hand in hand, Wi’ shouts in Huntly’s Blessin’?. All Publicans, that favoured race, 'Their grateful hearts expressin’, On signs portray his Lordship’s face, Inscribed wi’ Huntly’s Blessin’?
There crouse the Northern Cock may craw
The midden-tap possessin'; Frae Pentlan’ Firth to Gallowa’, Proclaimin' Huntly’s Blessin’? Yes ; far an’ near, ’mong rich an’ poor, Development’s progressin’; An’ meu for care may find a cure— But nae in Huntly’s Blessin’.
# The Bennachie budget/Stap the Flood's Wall-E'e

STAP THE FLOOD’S WALL-E’E,
Tune—"Jenny's Bawbee."
When Friendship filled her siller tass, For laird or cottar, lad or lass, Langsyne naebody dared surpass A wee drap i’ their e’e; The eummer warmed the caudle cup, The hame-come foamed a couthy sup, Whaur death had laid his cauldrife grup, They drank the kind dirgee.
As thro’ the worm the wimplin’ rill Sac gently trinkles frae the still, What heart could dread sae muckle ill Could dreip frae fount sae sma’. The rill has swall’d intil a spate, That pours its torrents air’ an’ late, An’ sweeps to Ruin bauld an’ blate Beyond remeid o’ law.
For men, wi’ demon's strength an’ tongue, Now beat their wives an’ ban their young, Syne leave them cow’rin’, cauld, an’ clung, An’ birl the Barley-bree; Their wives for meat an’ claes naun drudge, An’ leave their bairns to rake the sludge, But lazy sots refuse to mudge While blest wi’ ae bawbee,
Then, Scotland’s sons, the fecht maintain, Till truth unlink the drunkard’s chain, An’ voters send to Stephen’s fane, Bauld meinbers true an’ leal; Thore let them bar despotic plan, Nor laws devise for class or clan, Nor statesmen prop wi’ cup an’ can,
That blight the commonweal.
​While swinish drunkards, roll in slime, An’ stain our land wi’ blood an’ crime, While poison, wasting manhood’s prime, Frae fat an’ still flows free; Let Temp’rance all lier sons combine, While poison's streams turn men to swine, An’, firm, resolve through aid Divine, To stap the flood’s Wall-e’e!
# The Bennachie budget/The Strayed Ox

THE STRAYED OX.
Tune―"Send Me"
Why condemn the self-concealer, Leaving but an Ox to stray? And applaud the spirit-dealer,
Luring souls to Satan’s sway? If a brother’s Son should wander
From the path of life and truth, Should you like a cold by-stander, For your profit blight his youth?
Know you not, the faithful Spirit Solemn warning all hath given, That no drunkard can inherit Everlasting life in heaven? What, you force not your October, Or Devanku down his throat! What, not bound to keep him sober, Or refuse his hindmost groat!
Ah, the man who slew his brother Asked—“Must I my brother keep?" Gain may conscience try to smother; Vengeance will not always sleep! ​Can you love to brethren cherish, While their reason you deprave? Thro’ your drink shall sinners perish, Whom their Friend has bled to save?
Sailors, thro’ the foaming billow, Urge the life-boat to the wreck; And refuse to press their pillow, Till the last has left the deck; But your light—like wreckers’ torches, Luring ships to ruin’s rock— Draws our sons, like moths, and scorches, While their spoils increase your stock.
Love of money, like a canker, Eats the llesh and gnaws the soul; But can riches form an anchor, Sure and fast when tempests roll? No; the gold that tills your coffers, Happiness nor honour brings; What you net from drunken scoffers May escape on eagles’ wings.
One day preachers ply their labours, Stripping Satan of his spoil; Six days long among your neighbours, Strive you not to mar their foil? Saturday brings drink and dances, Smutty song and wanton sports; Will the Sabbath’s calm advances Draw your friends to Zion’s courts?
Bid the Farmer to the Miller Bear the barley and the rye; Soon would Brewer and Distiller Find their bitter fountains dry. Grateful to the gracious Giver, Humbly yield to Mercy’s sway; Slaves from chains of drink deliver, Lead them all in freedom’s way.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lass gin ye lo'e me

Lass gin ye lo’e me.
[In Herd's collection the following fragment is preserved:
I ha'e layen three herring a-sa't; Bonnie lass, gin ze'll tak' me, tell me now, And I ha'e brew'n three pickles o' ma't, And I canna cum ilka day to woo, To woo, to woo, to lilt and to woo, And I canna cum ilka day to woo.
I ha'e a wee calf that wad fain be a cow; Bonnie lass, gin ze'll tak' me, tell me now; I ha'e a grice that wad fain be a sow, And I canna cum ilka day to woo. To woo, to woo, &c.
From this fragment, James Tytler, otherwise called Balloon Tytler, of whom we have spoken in previous notes, constructed the following song, which, with its lively air, is given in the third volume of Johnson's Museum. Mr. Mackay, cf the Edinburgh theatre, used to sing the song with pawkie glee, and was instrumental in rendering it popular.]
I ha'e laid a herring in saut, Lass gin ye lo'e me tell me now 1 ha'e brew'd a forpet o' maut, An' I canna come ilka day to woo. ​I ha'e a calf will soon be a cow, Lass gin ye lo'e me tell me now! I ha'e a pig will soon be a sow, An' I canna come ilka day to woo.
I've a house on yonder muir, Lass gin ye lo'e me tell me now! Three sparrows may dance upon the floor, An' I canna come ilka day to woo. I ha'e a but, an' I ha'e a ben, Lass gin ye lo'e me tell me now! I ha'e three chickens an' a fat hen, An' I canna come ony mair to woo.
I've a hen wi' a happity leg, Lass gin ye lo'e me tak' me now! Which ilka day lays me an egg, An' I canna come ilka day to woo. I ha'e a kebbuck upon my shelf, Lass gin ye lo'e me tak' me now! I downa eat it a' myself; An' I winna come ony mair to woo.
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lass, gin ye wad lo'e

Lass, gin ye wad lo'e.
[From Chambers's Journal, No. 196, where it appears with the initials "A. L."]
"Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me, Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me, Ye'se be ladye o' my ha', Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me. A cantie but, a cozie ben, Weel plenish'd, ye may trow me, A brisk, a blythe, a kind gudeman— Lass, gin ye wad lo'e me!"
"Walth there's little doubt ye ha'e, An' bidin' bein an' easy; But brisk an' blythe ye canna be, An' you sae auld an' crazy. ​Wad marriage mak' you young again? Wad woman's luve renew you?— Awa', ye silly doitet man, I canna, winna lo'e you."
"Witless hizzie, e'ens ye like, The ne'er a doit I'm carin'; But men maun be the first to speak, An' wanters maun be speirin'. Yet, lassie, I ha'e lo'ed you lang, An' now I'm come to woo you— I'm no sae auld as clashes gang, I think you'd better lo'e me!"
"Doitet bodie!—auld or young, You needna langer tarry, Gin ane be loutin' owre a rung, He's no for me to marry. Gae hame an' ance bethink yoursel' How ye wad come to woo me— And mind me i' your latter-will, Bodie, gin ye lo'e me!"
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lauchie's Promotions

Lauchie's Promotions.
[Alex. Rodger.—Air "Johnny Cope."]
Nainsel she was porn 'mang ta Hielan' hills, 'Mang ta goats, an' ta sheeps, an' ta whiskee stills, An' ta brochan, an' brogues, an' ta snuishin' mills, Oich! she was ta ponnie land she was porn in: For a' ta lads there will be shentlemans porn, An' will wear skean-dhu an' ta praw snuishin'-horn, An' ta fine tartan trews her praw houghs to adorn, An' mak' her look fu' spruce in ta mornin'.
Noo, ta shentlemans will no like to wroughtin' at a', But she'll sit py ta grieshach her haffets to claw; An' pe birsle her shanks, till they're red as ta haw, An' a' fu' o' measles ilka mornin'. But her nainsel' at last to ta Lalans cam' doon, An' will got her a place 'mang ta mhor Glaschow toon; Whar she's noo prush-ta-poot, an' pe polish-ta-shoon, An' pe shentleman's flunkie in ta mornin'.
But at last she will turn very full o' ta proud, An' she'll hold up her heads, an' she'll spoke very loud,
An' she'll look wi' disdains 'pon ta low tirty crowd, Tat will hing 'pout ta doors ilka mornin'. Noo, her nainsel is go to have one merry ball, Whar she'll dance Killum Callum, hoogh! ta best o' them all, For ta ponniest dancer she'll pe in ta hall, Aye, either 'mang ta evenin' or mornin'.
Ither lads will have lasses, hersel will have no, It pe far too expense wi' ta lassie to go; So, she'll shust dance hersel', her fine preedings to show, Tat she learn 'mang ta place she was porn in. Then ta lads will cry "Lauchie, where from did you'll cam', Tat you'll not give ta lassie ta dance an' ta dram?" But te're a' trouster mosachs, every one shust ta sam', They wad spulzie all her sporran ere ta mornin'.
Noo, she's thochtin' she'll yet turn a praw waiter's pell, When she wear ta fine pump an' pe dress very well; An' py Sheorge! ere she'll stop, she'll pe maister hersel, In spite o' a' their taunts an' their scornin'. Syne wha like ta great Maister Fraser will pe, When she'll hing up ta sign o' the "Golden Cross Key," An' will sit in her parlour her orders to gi'e To her waiters an' her boots in ta mornin'?
# The Book of Scottish Song/Landlady count the lawin

Landlady count the lawin.
[Tune, "Hey, tuttie, taitie."—Altered by Burns from an old ditty. The last verse of this song formed originally the first verse of the previous song.]
Landlady, count the lawin, The day is near the dawin; Ye're a' blind drunk, boys, And I'm but jolly fou. Hey tuttie, taitie, How tuttie, taitie— Wha's fou now?
Cog an' ye were aye fou, Cog an' ye were aye fou, I wad sit and sing to you, If ye were aye fou.
Weel may ye a' be! Ill may we never see! God bless the king, boys, And the companie! Hey tuttie, taitie, How tuttie, taitie— Wha's fou now?
# The Book of Scottish Song/Lassie, lie near me

Lassie, lie near me.
[Old words to the tune of "Laddie, lie near me," with the exception of the substitution of "Lassie," for "Laddie."]
Lang ha'e we parted been, Lassie, my dearie; Now we are met again, Lassie, lie near me, Near me, near me, Lassie, lie near me. Lang hast thou lain thy lane; Lassie, lie near me.
A' that I ha'e endured, Lassie, my dearie, Here in thy arms is cured; Lassie, lie near me.