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525. Song—Had I the wyte she bade me

 HAD I the wyte, had I the wyte,
 Had I the wyte? she bade me;
She watch’d me by the hie-gate side,
 And up the loan she shaw’d me.
And when I wadna venture in, A coward loon she ca’d me: Had Kirk an’ State been in the gate, I’d lighted when she bade me.
Sae craftilie she took me ben, And bade me mak nae clatter; “For our ramgunshoch, glum gudeman Is o’er ayont the water.
” Whae’er shall say I wanted grace, When I did kiss and dawte her, Let him be planted in my place, Syne say, I was the fautor.
Could I for shame, could I for shame, Could I for shame refus’d her; And wadna manhood been to blame, Had I unkindly used her! He claw’d her wi’ the ripplin-kame, And blae and bluidy bruis’d her; When sic a husband was frae hame, What wife but wad excus’d her! I dighted aye her e’en sae blue, An’ bann’d the cruel randy, And weel I wat, her willin’ mou Was sweet as sugar-candie.
At gloamin-shot, it was I wot, I lighted on the Monday; But I cam thro’ the Tyseday’s dew, To wanton Willie’s brandy.

Poem by Robert Burns
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