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Tho' Geordy be laird o' a housie,
And brags o' his kye and his pelf,
Tho' warld's gear I be right scant o',
A fig for't, as lang's I've my heath:
If ance I were kippel'd wi' Annie,
She'll seldom ha'e cause to complain,
We'll jog on thro' life aye right canny,
When I a wife get o' my ain.
But if that my Annie prove faithless,
And marry before I return;
I'll no, like a cuiff, greet about her,
Nor yet for ae minute will mourn;
Awa straught to some ither beauty,
Without loss o' time I will hie,
And show to the lasses I'm careless,
Unless they're as willin' as I.
MY LOVELY OWEN.
Tho' far beyond the mountains,
That looks so distant here,
To fight his country's battles,
Last May-day went my dear;
Ah! well shall I remember,
