throne,
I cursed them a', and tuned my pipe
To John o' Badenyon.

V.

What next to do I mused awhile,
Still hoping to succeed;
I pitch'd on _books_ for company,
And gravely tried to read:
I bought and borrow'd everywhere,
And studied night and day,
Nor miss'd what dean or doctor wrote
That happen'd in my way:
Philosophy I now esteem'd
The ornament of youth,
And carefully through many a page
I hunted after truth.
A thousand various schemes I tried,
And yet was pleased with none;
I threw them by, and tuned my pipe
To John o' Badenyon.

VI.

And now, ye youngsters everywhere,
That wish to make a show,
Take heed in time, nor fondly hope
For happiness below;
What you may fancy pleasure here,
Is but an empty name,
And _girls_, and _friends_, and _books_, and so,
You 'll find them all the same.
Then be advised, and warning take
From such a man as me;
I 'm neither Pope nor Cardinal,
Nor one of high degree;
You 'll meet displeasure everywhere;
Then do as I have done,
E'en tune your pipe and please yourselves
With John o' Badenyon.

[1] This song was composed when Wilkes, Horne, and others, were exciting
a commotion about liberty.

THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKIT HORN.

I.

Were I but able to rehearse
My Ewie's praise in proper verse,
I 'd sound it forth as loud and fierce
As ever piper's drone could blaw;
The Ewie wi' the crookit horn,
Wha had kent her might hae sworn
Sic a Ewe was never born,
Hereabout nor far awa';
Sic a Ewe was never born,
Hereabout nor far awa'.

II.

I never needed tar nor keil
To mark her upo' hip or heel,
Her crookit horn did as weel
To ken her by amo' them a';
She never threaten'd scab nor rot,
But keepit aye her ain jog-trot,
Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
Was never sweir to lead nor caw;
Baith to the fauld and to the cot, &c.

III.

Cauld nor hunger never dang her,
Wind nor wet could never wrang her,
Anes she lay an ouk and langer
Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw:
Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,
And eat the kail, for a' the tyke,
My Ewie never play'd the like,
But tyc'd about th