Poem by Robert Burns

* * *

WEARY fa’ you, Duncan Gray-
  Ha, ha, the girdin o’t!
Wae gee by you, Duncan Gray-
  Ha, ha, the girdin o’t!
When a’ the lave gae to their play,
Then I maun sit the lee-lang day,
And jog the cradle wi’ my tae,
  And a’ for the girdin o’t.

Bonnie was the Lammas moon-
  Ha, ha, the girdin o’t!
Glowrin’ a’ the hills aboon-
  Ha, ha, the girdin o’t!
The girdin brak, the beast cam down,
I tint my curch, an baith my ahoon;
Ah! Duncan, ye’re an unco loon-
  Wae on the bad girdin o’t!

But, Duncan, gin ye’ll keep your aith-
  Ha, ha, the girdin o’t!
I’se bless you wi’ my hindmost breath-
  Ha, ha, the girdin o’t!
Duncan, gin ye’ll keep your aith,
The beast again can bear us baith,
And auld Mess John will mend the skaith,
  And clout the bad girdin o’t.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Stay My Charmer
5. On a Bank of Flowers

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