4
Haith I gart her change her tune:
Now a better wife than Bessy
Never stept in leather shoon.
Try this, Watty, when ye see her
Rafing like a roaring flood,
Swear that moment that ye’ll lea’ her;
That’s the way to keep her gude.
Laughing, sangs, and alasses skirls,
Echo’d now out thro’ the roof,
Done! quo Pate, and syne his ear’s
Nai’t the dryster’s wauket loof.
I’ the thrang o’ stories telling,
Shaking hauns and ither cheer;
Swith! a chap comes on the hallan,
Mungo! is our Watty here?
Maggy’s weel kend tongue and hurry,
Darted through him like a knife;
Up the door flew—like a fury
In came Watty’s scawlin wife.
Nasty, gude for-naething being!
O ye snuffy drunken sow!
Bringan wife and wenns to ruin,
Drinken here wi’ sic a crew!
De’il not your twa legs were broken!
Sic a lite mae flesh endures—
Toilan like a slave to slocken
You, ye dyvour, and your whores!
Rise! ye drunken beast o’ Bethel!
Drink’s your night and day’s desire:
