174

POEMS,

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.
Then guidwife, &c.

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,
Then guidwife, &c.

HONEST POVERTY.

Is there, for honest poverty,

That hangs his head, and a' that;
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,

Our toil's obscure, and a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, and a' that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that;
For a' that, and a' that,

Their tinsel show and a' that;
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,

Wha struts, and stares, and a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for 9' that:
For a' that, and a' tnat,

His riband, star, and a' that,
The man of independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might
Guid faith he mauna fa' that!

CHIEFLY SCOTTISH.

A PECK O' MAUT.

O, WILLIE brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allan cam to see;
Three blither hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wad na find in Christendie.

CHORUS.

We are na fou, we're na that fou,
But just a drappie in our e'e;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
And ay we'll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And monie a night we've merry been,
And monie mae we hope to be!

We are,

&c.

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!
We are, &c.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa',
A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha last beside his chair shall fa',
He is the king amang us three!
We are, &c.

173

THE LAWIN.

GANE is the day and mirk's the night,
But we'll ne'er stray for foute o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And bluid-red wine's the rising sun.

CHORUS.

Then, guidwife, count the lawin, the lawin, the lawin, Then, guidwife, count the lawin, and bring a coggie mair

172

POEMS,

I spier'd for my cousin, fu' couthie and sweet,
Gin she had recover'd her hearin,

And how her new shoon fit her auld shackl't feet,
But, heavens! how he fell a-swearin, a-swearin,
But, heavens! how he fell a-swearin.

He begg'd for Gudesake! I wad be his wife,
Or else 1 wad kill him wi' sorrow:
So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,

I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow.

WILLIE'S WIFE.

WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed,
The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie,
Willie was a wabster guid,

Cou'd stown a clue wi' onie bodie:
He had a wife was dour and din,
O tinkler Madgie was her mother;

CHORUS.

Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
She has an e'e, she has but ane,
The cat has twa the very colour;
Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump,

A clapper tongue wad deave a miller:
A whiskin beard about her mou,

Her nose and chin they threaten ither.
Sic a wife, &c.

She's bough-hough'd, she's hein-shinn'd,
Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter ;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter:
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o' that upon her shouther;
Sic a wife, &c.

Auld baudron by the ingle sits,

An wi' her loof her face a washin;
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,

She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion;
Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
Her face wad fyle the Logan-water,