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7
Blythe and happy are we,
Tune——— Andro and his cutty gun.
Blythe blythe,and happy are we,
Cauld care is fixed awa:
This is but ae might o’ our lives.
And wha wad grudge tho’ it were twa.
The evening shade around is spread,
The chilling torpest sweeps the sky,
We're kindly met, and warmly set
An‘ streams o‘nappy rinnin’ by
Blythe &c.
While gettin fou were great I trow,
We score misfortune’s greatest bangs,
The magic bowl can lift the soulful
Absoon the world and a‘ its wrangs
Blythe, &c.
The days of man are but a span,
This mortal life a pleasing dream,
Nought to illume the drearie gloom,
Save love and friendship’s sacred gleam.
Blythe, &c.
Then toom your glass to my sweet lass,
And syne we'll turn it o‘er to thine,
