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BLYTHE JAMIE M'NAB, by                    
First Line: Gae find me a match for blythe jamie m'nab
Last Line: May he mount up on high wi' blythe jamie m'nab.
Subject(s): Friendship


GAE find me a match for blythe Jamie M'Nab;
Ay, find me a match for blythe Jamie M'Nab;
The best piece o' stuff cut frae Nature's ain wab,
Is that prince o' guid fellows -- blythe Jamie M'Nab.

In her kindliest mood Madame Nature had been,
When first in this warld Jamie open'd his e'en,
For he ne'er gied a whimper, nor utter'd a sab,
But hame he cam' lauchin -- blythe Jamie M'Nab.

In process o' time Jamie grew up apace,
And still play'd the smile on his roon' sonsie face;
Except when a tear, like a pure hinny-blab,
Was shed o'er the wretched by Jamie M'Nab.

And Jamie is still just the best o' guid chiels,
Wi' the cheerfu' he lauchs, wi' the waefu' he feels;
And the very last shillin' that's left in his fab,
He'll share wi' the needfu' -- blythe Jamie M'Nab.

Blythe Jamie M'Nab is sae furthy and free,
While he's crackin' wi' you, while he's jokin' wi' me,
That I wad wish nae better than twa hours' confab
Owre a horn o' guid yill wi' blythe Jamie M'Nab.

And Jamie M'Nab is nae thin airy ghaist,
For he measures an ell and twa-thirds roon' the waist;
Yet a wittier wag never trod on a slab,
Than that kind-hearted billie -- blythe Jamie M'Nab.

Yes, Jamie has bulk, yet it damps na his glee,
For his flashes o' fancy come fervid and free;
As bright frae his brain as if lively Queen Mab
Held nightly communings wi' Jamie M'Nab.

He tells sic queer stories, and rum funny jokes,
And mak's sic remarks upon a' public folks,
That time rattles by like a beau in a cab,
While sittin' and list'ning to Jamie M'Nab.

I carena for Tory -- I carena for Whig --
I mindna your Radical raver a fig;
But gie me the man that is staunch as a stab
For the richts o' his caste, like blythe Jamie M'Nab.

Amang the soft sex, too, he shows a fine taste,
Admiring what's lovely, and handsome, and chaste;
But the lewd tawdry trollop, the tawpie, and drab,
Can never find favour wi' Jamie M'Nab.

Some folks, when they meet you, are wonderfu' fair,
And wad hug ye as keen as a Noraway bear;
The next time they see you, they're soor as a crab,
That's never the gate wi' blythe M'Nab.

No! Jamie is ever the same open wight,
Aye easy and pleasant frae morning till night;
While ilk man, frae my Lord down to plain, simple Hab,
Gets the same salutation frae Jamie M'Nab.

Had mankind at large but the tithe o' his worth,
We then might expect a pure heaven on earth;
Nae rogues then wad fash us, wi' grip and wi' grab,
But a' wad be neebors -- like Jamie M'Nab.

Lang, lang may the sonsy GUIDMAN o' the Herald
Wi' Jamie M'Nab wauchle on thro' this warld;
And when, on Life's evening, cauld Death steeks his gab,
May he mount up on high wi' blythe Jamie M'Nab.





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