II.

O haud your tongue now, Luckie Laing, O hand your tongue and jauner; I held the gate till you I met, Syne I began to wander: I tint my whistle and my sang, I tint my peace and pleasure: But your green graff, now, Luckie Laing, Wad airt me to my treasure.

* * * * *

THE COOPER O' CUDDIE.

Tune--"_Bab at the bowster._"

[The wit of this song is better than its delicacy: it is printed in the Museum, with the name of Burns attached.]