3
Our seed time and harvest we ever will get,
For we’ve lippen’d ay to Providence, and sae will we yet.
And sae will we yet, &c.
Long live the king, and happy may he be,
And success to his forces by land and by sea:
His enemies to triumph we ne’er will permit,
Britons ay have been victorious, and sae will we yet.
And sae will we yet, &c.
Let the glass keep its course, and go merrilie roun’,
For the sun has to rise, tho’ the moon it goes down;
Till the house be rinnin round about, ’tis time enough to flit
When we fell we ay up again, and sae will we yet.
And sae will we yet, &c.
SHE’S FAIR AND FAUSE.
She’s fair and fause that causes my smart,
I loo’d her meikle and lang;
She’s broken her vow, she’s broken my heart,
And I may e’en gae hang.
A coof cam in wi’ rowth o’ gear,
And I hae tint my dearest dear,
