MUIRLAND, half-blind with age, slips on his Spectacles
secretly, recognises JEAN, advances to her, and sings.
SONG.
Air—“Whistle owre the lave o't.”
O lassie will ye tak a man,
Rich in hoosin, geir, an lan.
Dell tak the cash ! that I soud ban,
Nae mair Ill be the slave o't ;
Ill buy you claise tae busk ye braw,
A ridin pownie, pad an a, [1]
On fashions tap weel drive awa,
Whip, spur, an a the lave o't.
O poortith is a winter day,
Cheerless, blirtie, caul an blae,
But baskin under Fortune's ray,
There's joy whate'er ye'd have o't ;
Then gies your han, ye'll be my wife,
Ill mak you happy a your life,
We'll row in luve an siller rife,
Till death win up the lave o't.
Mir. Nae toilin there tae raise a heavy rent,
Oor fortune's made—O lassie gie consent! [Aside to Jean.
[1] William Robertson was an excellent equestrian, and always kept a pony for riding; and many persons will yet recollect him coming into Paisley on his pony on the market days—Thursday—and the Abbey Church on Sundays. In 1819, when he was sixty years of age, he joined the Renfrewshire Yeomanry Cavalry, raised that year to suppress the Radical risings of that period. His age and wilzart appearance were very offensive to the regiment; but he could sit on the saddle, and go through the exercise as actively as the youngest trooper. It may be stated that Bell Dewar was also an able equestrian, and “a ridin pony, pad, an a,” would be a proper presentation to her.—Ed.