’Twill make a man forget his woe; ’Twill heighten all his joy: ’Twill make the widow’s heart to sing, Tho’ the tear were in her eye. Then let us toast John Barleycorn, Each man a glass in hand; And may his great posterity Ne’er fail in old Scotland! WILLIE BREWED O Willie brew’d a peck o’ maut, And Rob and Allan cam to see; Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, Ye wad na found in Christendie. We are na fou’, we’re no that fou, But just a drappie in our e’e; The cock may craw, the day may daw, And aye we’ll taste the barley bree! Here are we met, three merry boys, Three merry boys, I trow, are we; And mony a night we’ve merry been, And mony mae we hope to be! It is the moon, I ken her horn, That’s blinkin’ in the lift sae hie; She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, But, by my sooth! she’ll wait a wee. Wha first shall rise to gang awa, A cuckold, coward loun is he! Wha first beside his chair shall fa’, He is the King among us three! COUNT THE LAWIN Gane is the day, and mirk’s the night, But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’ light, For ale and brandy’s stars and moon, And bluid-red wine’s the risin sun. Then guidwife, count the lawin, The lawin, the lawin, Then guidwife, count the lawin, And bring a coggie mair. There’s wealth and ease for gentlemen, And semple-folk maun fecht and fen’, But here we’re a’ in ae accord, For ilka man that’s drunk’s a lord. My coggie is a haly pool, That heals the wounds o’ care and dool; And pleasure is a wanton trout, An’ ye drink it a’ ye’ll find him out. RATTLIN’, ROARIN’ WILLIE O rattlin’, roarin’ Willie O, he held to the fair, An’ for to sell his fiddle, And buy some other ware; But parting wi’ his fiddle, The saut tear blin’t his e’e; And rattlin’, roarin’ Willie, Ye’re welcome hame to me! O Willie, come sell your fiddle, O sell your fiddle sae fine; O Willie, come sell your fiddle, And buy a pint o’ wine! If I should sell my fiddle, The warl’ would think I was mad; For mony a rantin’ day My fiddle and I hae had. As I cam by Crochallan, I cannily keekit ben— Rattlin’, roarin’ Willie Was sitting at yon board en’; Sitting at yon board en’, And amang guid companie; Rattlin’, roarin’ Willie, Ye’re welcome hame to me! AN OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP (TO JOHN LAPRAIK, AN OLD SCOTTISH BARD)