Page:Four songs (16).pdf/6

Then aff wi' his bonnet gat Synion,
An' to the Commander he gaes :
Quo' he, Sir, I mean to gae wi' ye, man,
An' help ye to lounder our faes.

I'm auld, yet I'm teugh as the wire,
Sae we'll at the rogues have a dash,
An' legs, if my gun winna fire.
I'll turn her butt end, an' I'll thrash.

Well spoken, my hearty old hero,
The Captain did smiling reply,
But begg'd he wad stay till to-morrow,
Till day-light should glent in the sky.

Whatreck, a' the stour cam to naething ;
Sae Symon, an' Janet his dame,
Hale skart frae the wars without skaithing,
Gaed bannin' the French again hame.

It was on a pleasant morning,
As I sat on my easy chair,
All in a cottage of my own,
My mind was free from strife and care ;
A fair maid came unto me,
And kindly catch'd me by the hand,
I long to hear a verse or two,
That's made in praise of Paddy's land.