The Scots musical museum . r toor-fheek, And tats te great vexation. Scotland be turnt a Ningland now,An* laws pring on te cadger: Nainfeii wad durk him for her deeds,But ohi fhe fears te foger. Anither law came after that, Me never faw te like, man;They mak a lang road on te crund, And ca him Turnimfpike, man. An wow!fhe pe a ponny road,Like Louden corn-rigs, man; Where twa carts may gang on her,An no preak ithers -GSSt man. They Charge a peniij^ftr ilka horfe,In troth,fhell no pe fheaper, For nought put gaen upothe crund,And they gie me a paper. Nae doubts,Nainfell maun tra her purfe,And pay
The Scots musical museum . r toor-fheek, And tats te great vexation. Scotland be turnt a Ningland now,An* laws pring on te cadger: Nainfeii wad durk him for her deeds,But ohi fhe fears te foger. Anither law came after that, Me never faw te like, man;They mak a lang road on te crund, And ca him Turnimfpike, man. An wow!fhe pe a ponny road,Like Louden corn-rigs, man; Where twa carts may gang on her,An no preak ithers -GSSt man. They Charge a peniij^ftr ilka horfe,In troth,fhell no pe fheaper, For nought put gaen upothe crund,And they gie me a paper. Nae doubts,Nainfell maun tra her purfe,And pay .them what hims like, man: Ill fee a fhugement on his toor;Tat filthy Turnimfpike, man! But Ill awato te HigalariJ h Is,Where teil a ane dare turn h< r, And no come near her Ti:rnimfp;ke,Unlefs it pe to purn Blyth Jockey 26 3! A b a iFiia a i blp-Ji n £ 34 Mv- Jackep is tlie bhrheft Lad, that e _ ver Maiden Wood; When ^^r If f ^ ^ ¥ 43 6 ? ? Andante 7. e appears my Heart is glad,lor he iskind & good. He. in r 3fij & good. He *alks of Love wher m Uld^r !—^~3 *#s ords m raptures flow; Then times his fines fb fweet, T eer we meet,His Words in raptures flow; Then tunes his Pipe^fe fingS fo fweet, T i HW^t r r1 ?> * » have no Powr to go, Then tunes his pipe, h. fings fb fvveet, I have no Powr to -+—* -*^ I ?? —-? ^ 0. „ m .xa m All other lafTes he for fakes, And flies to me alone;At every fair, and all our walks To me he makes his moan:He buys me toys, and fweetmeats too, And ribbons for my hair,No fwain was ever half fo good, Nor fo kind and fair. Where er I go I nothing fear, If Jockey is but by;~For I alone am all his care, When ever dangers vows to wed next Whitfunday, And make me bleft for life;Can I refufe,ye maidens fay, To be young Jockeys wife? Same Tune TO fly, firebird,from grove to grove,To wander like the bee,To fip of fweets, and tafte of love, Is not enough for me:No fluttering paffions w; ke my breaft, I wifh the place to
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