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The laird was a widdiefu' bleerit knurl;
She's left the guid fellow and ta'en the churl.
She's left the guid fellow and ta'en the churl.
The miller he hecht her a heart leal and loving,
The laird did address her wi matter mair moving,
A fine pacing horse wi' a clear chained bridle,
A whip by her side, and a bonny side-saddle.
The laird did address her wi matter mair moving,
A fine pacing horse wi' a clear chained bridle,
A whip by her side, and a bonny side-saddle.
O wae on the siller, it is sae prevailing;
And wae on the love that is fix'd 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!
And wae on the love that is fix'd 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!
FINIS.
