This page has been validated.
( 16 )
The lad, for twa gude gimmer pets,
Was Laird himsel.
Was Laird himsel.
A bonny lase, ye ken her name,
Some in-brewn drink had hov'd her wame,
She trusts hersel, to hide the shame,
In Hornbook's care:
Horn sent her aff to her lang hame,
To hide it there.
Some in-brewn drink had hov'd her wame,
She trusts hersel, to hide the shame,
In Hornbook's care:
Horn sent her aff to her lang hame,
To hide it there.
That's just a swatch of Hornbook's way;
Thus goes he on from day to day,
Thus does he poison, kill, and slay,
An's weel paid for't:
Yet stops me of my lawfu' prey,
Wi' his d-n'd dirt.
Thus goes he on from day to day,
Thus does he poison, kill, and slay,
An's weel paid for't:
Yet stops me of my lawfu' prey,
Wi' his d-n'd dirt.
But hark! I'll tell you o' a plot,
Tho' dinna ye be speaking o't,
I'll nail the self-conceited sot
As dead's a herrin;
Neist time we meet, I'll wad a groat,
He gets his fairin,
Tho' dinna ye be speaking o't,
I'll nail the self-conceited sot
As dead's a herrin;
Neist time we meet, I'll wad a groat,
He gets his fairin,
But just as he began to tell,
The auld kirk hammer strak the bell,
Some wee short hour ayont the twal,
Which rais'd us baith.
I took the way that pleas'd mysel.
And see did Death.
The auld kirk hammer strak the bell,
Some wee short hour ayont the twal,
Which rais'd us baith.
I took the way that pleas'd mysel.
And see did Death.