Written by
Robert Burns |
WHARE are you gaun, my bonie lass,
Whare are you gaun, my hinnie?
She answered me right saucilie,
“An errand for my minnie.
”
O whare live ye, my bonie lass,
O whare live ye, my hinnie?
“By yon burnside, gin ye maun ken,
In a wee house wi’ my minnie.
”
But I foor up the glen at e’en.
To see my bonie lassie;
And lang before the grey morn cam,
She was na hauf sae saucie.
O weary fa’ the waukrife cock,
And the foumart lay his crawin!
He wauken’d the auld wife frae her sleep,
A wee blink or the dawin.
An angry wife I wat she raise,
And o’er the bed she brocht her;
And wi’ a meikle hazel rung
She made her a weel-pay’d dochter.
O fare thee weel, my bonie lass,
O fare thee well, my hinnie!
Thou art a gay an’ a bonnie lass,
But thou has a waukrife minnie.
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Written by
Robert Burns |
THERE was a lass, they ca’d her Meg,
And she held o’er the moors to spin;
There was a lad that follow’d her,
They ca’d him Duncan Davison.
The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh,
Her favour Duncan could na win;
For wi’ the rock she wad him knock,
And aye she shook the temper-pin.
As o’er the moor they lightly foor,
A burn was clear, a glen was green,
Upon the banks they eas’d their shanks,
And aye she set the wheel between:
But Duncan swoor a haly aith,
That Meg should be a bride the morn;
Then Meg took up her spinning-graith,
And flang them a’ out o’er the burn.
We will big a wee, wee house,
And we will live like king and queen;
Sae blythe and merry’s we will be,
When ye set by the wheel at e’en.
A man may drink, and no be drunk;
A man may fight, and no be slain;
A man may kiss a bonie lass,
And aye be welcome back again!
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