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THE PECK O’ MAUT.
O Willie brew’d a peck o' maut;
And Rab and Allan came to pree;
Three blither hearts, that lee lang night,
Ye wadna found in Christendie.
We are na fou we're no that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee,
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
And aye we'll taste the barley-bree.
Here are we met three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony night we've merry been,
And mony mair we hope to be.
It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinking in the lift sae hie,
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But by my south she'll wait a wee.
Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold coward loun is he!
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',
He is the king amang us three:
