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Whose spirit undaunted would never yet yield,
To a foe, to a pension or place, Sir;
Gratitude here, toasts to the Peer,
Who adds to his title the brave Volunteer,
THE BARRING O’ THE DOOR.
It fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was then,
When our goodwife got puddings to make,
And she boil’d them in a pan.
The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our gudemas to our gudewife,
“Get up and bar the door.”
“My hand is in my hussyf’skap,
Goodman, as you may see,
An it should na be barr’d this hundred year,
It’s no be bared for me.”
They made a paction ’tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure;
That the first word wha’er should speak,
Should rise and bar the door.
