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The very moudiwarts were stunn'd,
No kend what it could mean.
O Allister M'Allister &c.

Now wanton Willie was nae blate,
For he got haud o' winsome Kate,
Come here quo' he I'll shew the gate,
To dance the Highland fling.
The Highland fling he danced wi' glee,
And lap as he was gaun to flee,
Kate bak'd and babb'd sae bonnilie,
And tript it neat and clean.
O Allister M'Allister, &c.

Now Allister hes done his best,
And weary houghs are wantin rest,
Besides they sair wi' drouth were strest,
Wi' dancing sae I ween.
I true the gant e's get a lift,
And round the bicker flew like drift,
And Allister that very night,
Could scarcely stand his lane.
O Allister M'Allister, &c.



THE HIGHLAND PLAID.

Lowland lassie, wilt thou go,
Where the hills are clad wi' snow,
Where beneath the icy steep,
The hardy shepherd tends his sheep ?
Ill nor wae shall thee betide,
When row'd within my Highland Plaid.