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   Rab Rorison's Bonnet.

Ye'll a' hear tell o' Rab Rorison's bonnet,
Ye'll a' hear tell o' Rab Rorison's bonnet,
It wasna the bonnet but the head that was in it,
Made the hale parish talk o' Rab Rorison's bonnet.

This bonnet it covered his head frae the rain,
It served for a cradle when he was at hame,
And when the wife drank or gaed out o' the streets,
This very same bonnet oft dadded her cheeks.

When Raben grew gude and began for to pray,
Then it was his cushion kept his knees frae the clay,
And when Rabie fit or began for to swear,
This very same bonnet was waved in the air.

The bonnet when new just cost half-a-crown,
But thro' his lang lifetime it saved twa or three pound,
For it answered Rob'e in a' times o' need,
Besides when outbye for to cover his head.

This bonnet was weel worth a keepin at weel,
'Twas his ambry, his kist, and a dish for his meal,
He made it his bolster and tatie poke too,
He tried it wi' kail but it let out the broo.

It served for the bellows to blaw up the fire,
When the barrow was broken it mucket the byre,
And when wi fatigue this bonnet was worn,
Thro' the holes that was in it he riddled his corn.

They'd a red rosy top like a muckle black blibe,
And it was slouched o'er at ilka han'side;
Some said it was black, some said it was blue.

But how Robie got it to serve a' these ends,
Besides a' these fools there's few wise folk kens,
And when Robie died it was there on the spot,
He wad hain'd in the coffin, but it was forgot.

But peace to the head for its now i' the muls,
It was a wonder to wise folk as weel as to fools,
What sort o' wisdom this head was possest,
O here's nobody kens and sae few hae him mist.

They've a' heard tell o' Rab Rorison's bonnet,
Twas a wpnderfu' bonnet,
And a queer head was Rorison's in it,
Made a' the folk talk o' Rab Rorison's bonnet.

     The Lady and the
       SAILOR BOY.

The day was past, the snow fell fast,
The winter's wind did roar,
When a sailor's hoy, clothed in rags,
Came up to a lady's door ;
As the lady sat at the window,
He raised his eye's with joy,
Take pity, pray, sweet lady gay,
On a poor sailor's boy.

When my father he was lost at sea,
My mother pined and sigh'd,
And ne'er was seen to smile again,
But of a broken heart she died ;
Like a ship distress'd at sea.
That wind and waves destroy,
She sunk for ever, and left behind
Her poor sailor's boy.

As through the streets I wandering roam,
I oft heave many a sigh,
When children run to their parents' home,
For no home or friends have I ;
When hunger gnaws my little heart,
I sit me down and cry,
Then pity take, for mercy's sake,
On a poor sailor's boy.

Now the snow's fast descending,
And the night's coming on,
Unless you're to me befriending,
I'll perish before the morn ;
Then how 'twould grieve your heart,
And your peace of mind destroy,
To find me dead at your door in the morn,

The lady rush'd from the window,
And open'd the mansion door,
Come in, she cried, misfortune's child,
You never shall wander more ;
My only son was lost at sea,
Who was my earthly joy,
And as long as I live I'll shelter give
To a poor sailor's boy.

G. Wolker, Jun., Printer, Durham.
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