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The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell

... Now first collected and edited, with memoir, by Robert Howie Smith

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Enter Bizz.
[_]

Air—Will ye gang and marry Katy.

Bombyx.
Pray, What is your name, friend? tell us.

Bizz.
Tammas Bizz.—I've blawn the bellows,
And I've clinkit on the studdy
Sin a wean, knee-heigh and duddy.

And the gauger, weel I ken,
Aft he stammers butt and ben,
Snowkin a' frae end to end,
He's mislear'd and capernoited.

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And I ken Jock Black fou weel,
A sturdy hand at our fore-hammer;
Bess, his wife, flytes at the chiel,
But weel a wat I do condemn her.
Wark, ye ken yersels, brings drouth,
Wha can thole a gaizen'd mouth,
And gif he tak a gill, forsooth
Queans man flyte, and fools man clatter.
Jock, I ken's an honest lad,
Thievish pranks was ne'er his custom,
Tho' he be sae sair misca'd,
Wi' gowd in gowpins ye may trust him.
I hae kent him sin a bairn,
A penny willing aye to earn,
And tho' he's coupit i' the shearn,
Troth I ken nought ill about him.