The Song Book No. 4/The Ewie Wi' the Crooked Horn

by John Skinner

For other versions of this work, see The Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn (Skinner).

THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKED HORN.

O were I able to rehearse,
My ewie's praise in proper verse,
⟨I'd⟩ blaw it out as loud and fierse,
As ever piper's drone could blaw.
The ewie wi' the crooked horn,
Weel deserved baith grass and corn,
Sic a ewie ne'er was born,
Here about, nor far awa'.

⟨I⟩ neither needed tar nor keel,
To mark upo' her hip or heel;
Her crooked horn it did as well,
To ken her by amo' them a'.
The ewie, &c.

A better, nor a thriftier beast,
Nae honest man cou'd weel hae wist,
For, silly thing, she never mist
To hae ilk year a lamb or twa.
The ewie, &c.

The first she had I gae to Jock,
To be to him a kind of stock,
And now the laddie has a flock,
O' mair than thirty head to ca',
The ewie &c.

The neist I gae to Jean, and noo
The bairn's sae bra', has fauld sae fa',
That lads sae thick come her to woo,
They're fain to sleep on hay or straw,
The ewie, &c.

Yet Monday last, for a' my keeping,
I canna' speak it without greeting,
A villian came, whed I was sleeping,
An' staw my ewie, horn an a',
The ewie, &c.

I sought her sair upon the morn,
And down beneath a buss o' thorn
I got my ewe's crooked horn;
But, ah! my ewie was awa'
The ewie, &c.

But gin I had the loon that did it:
I've sworn and band as well as said it,
Tho' a' the world shou'd forbid it,
I wad gie his neck a thraw,
The ewie, &c.

O had she died o crook or cauld,
As ewies die whon they are auld,
It wad na been, by many fauld,
Sae sair a heart to nane o's a,
The ewie, &c.

For a' the claith that we hae worn,
Frae her and hers, sae aften shorn,
The loss o' her we cou'd hae born.
Had fair strae death taen her 'awa.
The ewie, &c.

But this poor thing to lose her life,
Aneath a greedy villian's knife,
I'm really fear'd that our gudewife
Sall never win aboon't aya.
The ewie, &c.