THE NEW KEEL ROW.

By T.T.—To the old Tune.

Whe’s like my Johnny,

Sae leish, sae blithe, sae bonny,

He’s foremost ’mang the mony

Keel lads o’ Coaly Tyne;

He’ll set or row so tightly,

Or in the dance so sprightly,

He’ll cut and shuffle sightly,