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Poem by Robert Burns


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There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg,
     And she held o'er the moors to spin;
There was a lad that follow'd her,
     They ca'd him Duncan Davison.
The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh,
     Her favour Duncan could na win;
For wi' the rock she wad him knock,
     And aye she shook the temper-pin.

As o'er the moor they lightly foor,
     A burn was clear, a glen was green,
Upon the banks they eas'd their shanks,
     And aye she set the wheel between:
But Duncan swoor a haly aith,
     That Meg should be a bride the morn;
Then Meg took up her spinning-graith,
     And flang them a' out o'er the burn. 

We will big a wee, wee house,
     And we will live like king and queen;
Sae blythe and merry's we will be,
     When ye set by the wheel at e'en.
A man may drink, and no be drunk;
     A man may fight, and no be slain;
A man may kiss a bonie lass,
     And aye be welcome back again!



Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Farewell to Ballochmyle
  2. Fairest Maid on Devon Banks
  3. O Wha is She that Lo’es Me?
  4. The Highland Lassie
  5. Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray


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