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Poem	O KEN ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten, An’ ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten? She gotten a coof wi’ a claut o’ siller, And broken the heart o’ the barley Miller. The Miller was strappin, the Miller was ruddy; A heart like a lord, and a hue like a lady; The laird was a widdifu’, bleerit knurl; She’s left the gude fellow, and taen the churl. The Miller he hecht her a heart leal and loving, The lair did address her wi’ matter mair moving, A fine pacing-horse wi’ a clear chained bridle, A whip by her side, and a bonie side-saddle. O wae on the siller, it is sae prevailin’, And wae on the love that is fixed on a mailen! A tocher’s nae word in a true lover’s parle, But gie me my love, and a fig for the warl’!
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