Poem by Robert Burns

O Why the Deuce

O WHY the deuce should I repine,
  And be an ill foreboder?
I’m twenty-three, and five feet nine-
  I’ll go and be a sodger.

I gat some gear wi’ meikle care,
  I held it weel thegither;
But now it’s gane and something mair
  I’ll go and be a sodger.

1. The Bonnie Wee Thing
2. Eppie M’Nab
3. Lovely Davies
4. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face
5. Forlorn, my Love

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