Poem by Robert Burns

* * *

O THAT I had ne’er been married,
  I wad never had nae care;
Now I’ve gotten wife and bairns,
  An’ they cry crowdie ever mair.
    Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,
      Three times crowdie in a day;
    Gin ye crowdie ony mair,
      Ye’ll crowdie a’ my meal away.

Waefu want and hunger fley me,
  Glowrin’ by the hallen en’;
Sair I fecht them at the door,
  But aye I’m eerie they come ben.

1. Their Groves O’ sweet Myrtle
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
4. Stay My Charmer
5. The Humble Petition of Bruar Water

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