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543. Song—News lassies news

 THERE’S news, lassies, news,
 Gude news I’ve to tell!
There’s a boatfu’ o’ lads
 Come to our town to sell.
—The wean wants a cradle, And the cradle wants a cod: I’ll no gang to my bed, Until I get a nod.
Father, quo’ she, Mither, quo she, Do what you can, I’ll no gang to my bed, Until I get a man.
The wean, &c.
I hae as gude a craft rig As made o’yird and stane; And waly fa’ the ley-crap, For I maun till’d again.
The wean, &c.

Poem by Robert Burns
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