65. Song—Rantin Rovin Robin

 THERE 1 was a lad was born in Kyle,
But whatna day o’ whatna style,
I doubt it’s hardly worth the while
 To be sae nice wi’ Robin.



Chor.
—Robin was a rovin’ boy,
 Rantin’, rovin’, rantin’, rovin’,
Robin was a rovin’ boy,
 Rantin’, rovin’, Robin!


Our monarch’s hindmost year but ane
Was five-and-twenty days begun, 2
’Twas then a blast o’ Janwar’ win’
 Blew hansel in on Robin.

 Robin was, &c.



The gossip keekit in his loof,
Quo’ scho, “Wha lives will see the proof,
This waly boy will be nae coof:
 I think we’ll ca’ him Robin.
”
 Robin was, &c.



“He’ll hae misfortunes great an’ sma’,
But aye a heart aboon them a’,
He’ll be a credit till us a’—
 We’ll a’ be proud o’ Robin.
”
 Robin was, &c.



“But sure as three times three mak nine,
I see by ilka score and line,
This chap will dearly like our kin’,
 So leeze me on thee! Robin.
”
 Robin was, &c.



“Guid faith,” quo’, scho, “I doubt you gar
The bonie lasses lie aspar;
But twenty fauts ye may hae waur
 So blessins on thee! Robin.
”
 Robin was, &c.



 Note 1.
 Not published by Burns.
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Note 2.
 January 25, 1759, the date of my bardship’s vital existence.
—R.
 B.
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