Had awa frae me,
Donald.
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O Will you hae ta tartan plaid,
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Or will you hae ta ring, Maattam?
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Or will you hae ta kiss o me?
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And dats ta pretty ting, Mattam.
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Had awa, bide awa,
|
Had awa frae me, Donald;
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Ill neither kiss nor hae a ring,
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Nae tartan plaids for me, Donald.
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O see you not her ponny progues,
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Her fecket plaid, plew, creen, Mattam?
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Her twa short hose, and her twa spiogs,
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And a shoulter-pelt apoon, Mattam?
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Had awa bide awa,
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Had awa frae me, Donald;
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Nae shoulder-belts nae trinkabouts,
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Nae tartan hose for me, Donald.
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Hur can pe shaw a petter hough
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Tan him wha wears the crown, mattam;
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Hersell hae pistol and claymore
|
Ta flie ta lallant loun, Mattam.
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Had awa, had awa,
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Had awa frae me, Donald;
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For a your houghs and warlike arms,
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Your no a match for me, Donald.
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Hursell hae a short coat pi pote,
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No trail my feets at rin, mattam;
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A cutty sark of good harn sheet,
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My mitter he be spin, mattam,
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Had awa, had awa,
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Had awa frae me, Donald;
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Gae hame and hap your naked houghs,
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And fash nae mair wi me, Donald.
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Yes neir pe pidden work a turn
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At ony kind o spin, Mattam,
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But shug your lenno in a scull,
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And tidel highland sing, Mattam.
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Had awa, had awa,
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Had awa frae me, Donald;
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Your jogging sculls and highland song
|
Will sound but harsh wi me, Donald.
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In ta morning when him rise
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Yes get fresh whey for tea, Mattam;
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Sweet milk an ream as much you please,
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Far cheaper tan pohea, Mattam.
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Had awa, had awa,
|
Had awa frae me, Donald;
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I winna quite my mornings tea,
|
Your whey will neer agree, Donald.
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Haper Gallic yes be learn,
|
And tats ta ponny speak, Mattam;
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Yes get a cheese and putter-kirn
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Come wi me gin ye like, Mattam;
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Had awa, had awa,
|
Had awa frae me, Donald;
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Your Gallic and your Highland chear
|
Will neer gae down with me, Donald.
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Fait yes pe ket a silder brotch
|
Pe pigger as the moon, Mattam:
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Yes ride in curroch stead o coach,
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An wow put yell pe fine, Martam.
|
Had awa, had awa,
|
Had awa frae me, Donald;
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For a your Highland rarities
|
Youre not a match for me, Donald.
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Whats tis ta way tat yell pe kind
|
To a protty man like me, Mattam?
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Sae langs claymore pe po my side,
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Ill nefer marry tee, Mattam.
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O come awa, run awa,
|
O come awa wi me, Donald;
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I wadna quite my Highland man;
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Frae Lallands set me free, Donald.
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The Surprise
|
I Had a horse and I had nae mair,
|
I gat him frae my daddy;
|
My purse was light and my heart was fair
|
But my wit it was fu ready.
|
And sae I thought upon a wile,
|
Outwittens of my daddy,
|
To see mysell to a lowland laird,
|
Who had a bonny lady.
|
I wrote a letter, and thus began,
|
Madam, be not offended,
|
Im oer the lugs in love wi you,
|
And care nae tho ye kend it.
|
For I get little frae the laird,
|
And far less frae my daddy,
|
And I would blythly be the man
|
Would strive to please my lady.
|
She read my letter, and she leuch.
|
Ye needna been sae blate, man:
|
You might hae come to me yoursell,
|
And tald me o your state, man:
|
You might hae come to me yoursell,
|
Outwittens of your daddy,
|
And made John Goukston of the laird,
|
And kissd his bonny lady.
|
Then she pat siller in my purse,
|
We drank wine in a cogie;
|
She feed a man to rub my horse,
|
And wow but I was vogie:
|
But I gat neer sae fair a fleg
|
Since I came frae my daddy,
|
The laird came rap rap to the yate,
|
Whan I was wi his lady.
|
Then she pat me below a chair,
|
And hapd me wi a plaidie;
|
But I was like to swarf wi fear,
|
And wishd me wi my daddy.
|
The laird went out, he saw na me,
|
I went whan I was ready:
|
I promisd but I neer gaed back
|
To see his bonny lady.
|
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Whistle oer the lave
ot
|
MY mither sent me to the well,
|
She had better gaen hersell,
|
I got the thing I dare nae tell,
|
Whistle oer the lave ot,
|
My mither sent me to the sea,
|
For to gather musles three;
|
A sailor lad fell in wi me,
|
Whistle oer the lave ot.
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