The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard; The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard; A blast blew ower the hill, that gae Atholl's flowers a chill, And the bloom 's blawn aff the bonnie bush in our kail-yard. [56] The present is an amended version of an old song, entitled "The Bonnie Brier Bush," altered and added to by Burns for the "Musical Museum." JOHN TOD. He 's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod, He 's a terrible man, John Tod; He scolds in the house, He scolds at the door, He scolds on the vera hie road, John Tod, He scolds on the vera hie road. The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod, The weans a' fear John Tod; When he 's passing by, The mithers will cry,-- Here 's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod, Here 's an ill wean, John Tod. The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod, The callants a' fear John Tod; If they steal but a neep, The callant he 'll whip, And it 's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod, It 's unco weel done o' John Tod. An' saw ye nae wee John Tod, John Tod? Oh, saw ye nae wee John Tod? His bannet was blue, His shoon maistly new, An' weel does he keep the kirk road, John Tod, Oh, weel does he keep the kirk road. How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod? How is he wendin', John Tod? He 's scourin' the land, Wi' his rung in his hand, An' the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod, An' the French wadna frighten John Tod. Ye 're sun-brunt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod Ye 're tantit and tatter'd, John Tod; Wi' your auld strippit coul, Ye look maist like a fule, But there 's nouse i' the lining,[57] John Tod, John Tod, But there 's nouse i' the lining, John Tod. He 's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod, He 's weel respeckit, John Tod; He 's a terrible man, But we 'd a' gae wrang If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod, John Tod, If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod. [57] A familiar Scottish phrase for good sense. WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN? Bonnie Charlie 's now awa', Safely ower the friendly main; Mony a heart will break in twa Should he ne'er come back again. Will ye no come back again? Will ye no come back again? Better lo'ed ye canna be-- Will ye no come back again? Ye trusted in your Hieland men, They trusted you, dear Charlie! They kent your hiding in the glen, Death or exile braving. Will ye no, &c. English bribes were a' in vain, Tho' puir, and puirer, we maun be; Siller canna buy the heart That beats aye for thine and thee. Will ye no, &c.