Cream of Tannahill's Songs (3)/Rab Roryson's Bonnet

by Robert Tannahill

For other versions of this work, see Rab Roryson's Bonnet.

RAB RORYSON'S BONNET.
Ye'll a' ha'e heard tell o' Rab Roryson's bonnet,
Ye'll a' ha'e heard tell o' Rab Roryson's bonnet,
'Twas no for itsel', 'twas the head that was in it,
Gar'd a' bodies talk o' Rab Roryson's bonnet.

This bonnet, that theekit his wonderfu' head,
Was his shelter in winter, in summer his shade,
And at kirk or at market, or bridals I ween,
A braw gaucier bonnet there never was seen.

Wi' a round rosy tap, like a meikle blackboyd,
It was slouched just a kenning on either hand side,
Somo maintain'd it was blaek, some maintain'd it was blue,
It had something o' baith as a body may trow.

But, in sooth, I assure you, for ought that I saw,
Still his bonnet had naething uncommon ava,
Tho' the hail parish talk'd o' Rab Roryson's bonnet,
'Twas a' for the marvellous head that was in it.

That head—let it rest—it is now in the mools,
Tho' in life a' tho warld beside it were fools,
Yet o' what kind o' wisdom his head was possest,
Nano e'er kent but himsel', sae there's nane that will miss't.

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