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Poem	WHARE live ye, my bonie lass? And tell me what they ca’ ye; My name, she says, is mistress Jean, And I follow the Collier laddie. My name, she says, &c. See you not yon hills and dales The sun shines on sae brawlie; They a’ are mine, and they shall be thine, Gin ye’ll leave your Collier laddie. They a’ are mine, &c. Ye shall gang in gay attire, Weel buskit up sae gaudy; And ane to wait on every hand, Gin ye’ll leave your Collier laddie. And ane to wait, &c. Tho’ ye had a’ the sun shines on, And the earth conceals sae lowly, I wad turn my back on you and it a’, And embrace my Collier laddie. I wad turn my back, &c. I can win my five pennies in a day, An’ spen’t at night fu’ brawlie: And make my bed in the collier’s neuk, And lie down wi’ my Collier laddie. And make my bed, &c. Love for love is the bargain for me, Tho’ the wee cot-house should haud me; And the warld before me to win my bread, And fair fa’ my Collier laddie! And the warld before me, &c.
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