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e month amang the moons An' see them right. Guid observation they will gie them; An' when the auld moon's gaun to lea'e them, The hindmaist shaird, they'll fetch it wi' them Just i' their pouch; An' when the new-light billies see them, I think they'll crouch! Sae, ye observe that a' this clatter Is naething but a "moonshine matter"; But tho' dull prose-folk Latin splatter In logic tulyie, I hope we bardies ken some better Than mind sic brulyie. One Night As I Did Wander Tune--"John Anderson, my jo." One night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me, And bicker'd to the seas; A cushat crooded o'er me, That echoed through the braes . . . . . . . Tho' Cruel Fate Should Bid Us Part Tune--"The Northern Lass." Tho' cruel fate should bid us part, Far as the pole and line, Her dear idea round my heart, Should tenderly entwine. Tho' mountains, rise, and deserts howl, And oceans roar between; Yet, dearer than my deathless soul, I still would love my Jean. . . . . . . . Song--Rantin', Rovin' Robin^1 [Footnote 1: Not published by Burns.] Tune--"Daintie Davie." There was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o' whatna style, I doubt it's hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi' Robin. Chor.--Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin', rovin', rantin', rovin', Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin', rovin', Robin! Our monarch's hindmost year but ane Was five-and-twenty days begun^2, 'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' win' Blew hansel in on Robin. Robin was, &c. [Footnote 2: January 25, 1759, the date of my bardship's vital existence.--R.B.] The gossip keekit in his loof, Quo' scho, "Wha lives will see the proof, This waly boy will be nae coof: I think we'll ca' him Robin." Robin was, &c. "He'll hae misfortunes great an' sma', But aye a heart aboon them a', He'll be a credit till us a'-- We'll a' be proud o' Robin." Robin was, &c. "But sure as three times three mak nine, I see by ilka score and line, This chap will dearly like our kin', So leeze me on thee! Robin." Robi
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