Cream of Tannahill's Songs (3)/Coggie thou heals me

by Robert Tannahill

For other versions of this work, see Coggie, Thou Heals Me.

COGGIE, THOU HEALS ME.

Dorothy sits i' tho cauld ingle neuk,
Her red rosy neb's like a labster tae;
Wi' girning, her mou's like the gab o' the fleuk,
Wi' smokin', her teeth's like the jet o' the slae.
And aye she sings weels me, aye she sings weels in
Coggio, thou heals me, coggie, thou heals me,
Aye my best friend, when there's ony thing ails me
No'or shall we part till the day that I die.

Dorothy ance was a weel tocher'd lass,
Had charms like her nei'bours, an' lovers anew,
But she spited them sae, wi' her pride and her sauce
They left her for thirty lang summers to rue.
Then aye she sang waes me, aye she sang waes me,
O I'll turn crazy, O I'll turn crazy,
Naething in a' the wide world can case me,
De'il take the wooers—O what shall I do.

Dorothy, dozen'd wi' living her lane,
Pu'd at her rock, wi' the tear in her e'e,
She thought on the braw merry days that were gane,
And caft a wee coggie for company.
Now aye she sings weels me, aye she sings weels me,
Coggie thou heals me, coggie thou heals me,
Aye my best friend, when there's ony thing ails me,
Never shall we part, till the day that I die.

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