The Unfortunate shepherdess/Whistle o'er the lave o't

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WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T.

FIRST when Maggy was my care,
Heaven, I thought, was in her hair;
Now we're married—spier nae mair—
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Meg was meek and Meg was mild,
Bonnie Meg was nature's child—
Wiser men than me's beguil'd;
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love and how we 'gree,
I carena by how few may see;
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Wha I wish were maggot's meat,
Dish'd up in her winding-sheet,
I could write—but Mag maun see't—
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

FINIS.