Two popular songs/Falkirk fair

FALKIRK FAIR

O the sun frae the eastward was peeping,
And braid through the winnocks did a stare,
When Willie cried Tam are ye sleeping,
Mak' haste man and rise to the fair;
For the lads and the Lassies are thrangin,
An' a' bodies now in a steer,
Fy haste ye and let us be ganging,
Or faith we’ll be longsome I fear.

Chorus—Lul te turam an ⟨uran⟩ &c.

Then Tam he got up in a hurry,
And wow but he made himsel’ snod,
For a pint of milk brose he did worry,
To mak him mair fit for the road;
On his head his blue bannet ha slippet
His whip our his shouther he flang.
And a clumsy oak cudgel be grippet,
On purpose the loons for to bang.

Now Willock had trysted wi Jenny,
For she was abraw canty queen,
Word gaed she had a gay penny,
For whilk Willie fondly did grean,
⟨Now⟩ Tam he was blaming the liquor
⟨Yae⟩ night he had got himfelf fou,
And trysted gleid Maggy Macvicar;
And faith thought shame for to rue.

The carles fu' codgie at cocking,
Upon their White nags and their Brawn,
Wi' snuffing and laughing and joeking.
They soon cautert in to the town;
Twas there was the funning and sporting,
Ae! what o swarm o' braw folk.
Rowly Powly Wild beasts wheel o' Fortune,
Sweet stan's Master Punch and black Jock.

Now Willock and Tam gayan buosy,
By this time had met wae their joes,
Consented wi Gibby and Susy.
To dauner down by to the shows.
Twas here was the fiddling and drumming,
Sic a crowd they could scarcely get through,
Fiddles Trumpets and Organ a bumming,
O sirs what a hully Baloo.

Then hie to the tents at the paling,
Weel thacket wi' blankets and mats,
An' deals seated round like a tap-room,
Supported on stanes and on pats,
The whisky like water there selling,
An Porter as sma as their Yill,
And aye as you're pourin' there tellin
Troth dear it's just sixpence the gill.

Says Meg see yon beast wi’ the claes on't,
Wi’ the face o’t as black as the soot,
Preserve us it has fingers and taes on’t
Ae lass it’s an unco-like brute;
O woman but ye‘re a Gomeral,
To mak‘ sic a won‘er at that,
D'ye na ken daft gouk that's a mongrel,
That's bred ‘twixt a Dog and a Cat,

Na but see yon souple jade how she's dancing;
Wi' the white ruffled breeks and red shoon,
Frae tap to the tae she a' glancing,
Wi' gow'd and a feather aboon;
My troth she's a braw decent kimmer,
As I have yet seen in the fair,
Her decent! quo Meg, shes some limmer,
Or, faith she would never be there,

Now Gibbie was waiting a toothfu',
Says he I'm right tired of the fun
I say lads d’ye thing we’d be the waur o‘ a mouthfu
O guid nappy Yill and a Bun;
Wi’ a my heart says Tam feth I’m willing,
'Tis best to water the corn,
By jing I’ve a bonny white shilling,
And a saxpence that ne’er saw the morn!

Before they got out o’ the bustle,
Poor Tam got his fairing I tron,
For a stick at the Gingerbread play'd-whistle,
And knockit him down like a cow;
Say Tam wha did that deil confound him,
Fair play let me win' at the loon,
And he wheeled his stick round and round him,
And swore aye oe swore like a very {dragoon

Then for a house they gaed glowrin,
Whar they might get wettin their mou,
Says Meg here's a house keeps a poorin,
Wi the sign o' the muckle black cow;
A Cow quo' Jenny ye gawky,
Preserve's but ye've little skill,
Ye haveril did ye e'er see a hawky,
Like that—look and ye'll see its a bull

But just as they darken'd the entry,
Says Willie were now far enough,
I see it's a house for the gentry,
Let's gang to the sign o' the pleugh,
Na faith says Gibbie wese better,
Gae dauner to auld Luckie Gun's,
For there I'm to meet wi my Father,
And auld uncle Jock o' the Whins.

Now they a' in Luckie's had landed,
Twa rounds at the bicker to try,
The Whisky and Yill round was handed,
And Baps in great bourocks did lie;
Blind Aleck the fidler was trysted.
And he was to handle the bow,
On a big barrel head he was hoisted,
To keep himsel’ out o’ the row.

Had ye seen sic a din and gefaaing,
Sic hooching and dancing was there,
Sic rugging and riving and drawing,
Was ne’er before seen in a fair;
For Tam he wi’ Maggy was wheeling,
And he gaed sic a terrible loup,
That his head cam’ a thump on the ceiling,
And he cam‘ down wi‘a thump on his doup.

Now they eat and they drank till their bellies,
Were bent like the head o' a drum,
Syne they raise and they capert like fillies,
Whene’er that the fiddle play‘d bum,
Wi' dancing they now were grown weary,
And scarsely were able to stan,
So they took to the road a fu‘ cheery,
As day was beginning to dawn.