The Book of Scottish Song/Donald Gunn

Donald Gunn.

[David Webster.—Air, "Johnnie Pringle."]

Heard ye e'er o' Donald Gunn,
Ance sae duddy, dowf, and needy,
Now a laird in yonder toun,
Callous-hearted, proud, and greedy.

Up the glen aboon the linn,
Donald met wi' Maggie Millar,
Wooed the lass amang the whins,
Because she had the word o' siller;
Meg was neither trig nor braw,
Had mae fauts than ane laid till her;
Donald looket ower them a',
A' his thought was on the siller.
Heard ye e'er, &c.

Donald grew baith braid and braw,
Ceased to bore the whinstone quarry,
Maggie's siller pays for a',
Breeks instead o' duddy barrie:
Though he's ignorant as a stirk,
Though he's doure as ony donkey;
Yet, by accidental jirk
Donald rides before a fltinky.
Heard ye e'er, &c.

Clachan bairnies roar wi' fright,
Clachan dogs tak' to their trotters,
Clachan wives the pathway dicht
To tranquillise his thraward features:
Gangrel bodies in the street
Beck and bow to make him civil,
Tenant bodies in his debt,
Shun him as they'd shun the devil.
Heard ye e'er, &c.

Few gangs trigger to the fair,
Few gangs to the kirk sae gaucie,—
Few wi' Donald can compare
To keep the cantel o' the causie:
In his breast a bladd o' stane,
Neith his hat a box o' brochan,
In his nieve a wally cane,
Thus the tyrant rules the clachan.
Heard ye e'er, &c.

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