Robert Burns


Willie Brewed


O Willie brew’d a peck o’ maut,
   	And Rob and Allan cam to see;
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,
  	Ye wad na found in Christendie.

We are na fou’, we’re no that fou,
  	But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
  	And aye we’ll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met, three merry boys,
  	Three merry boys, I trow, are we;
And mony a night we’ve merry been,
  	And mony mae we hope to be!

It is the moon, I ken her horn.
  	That’s blinkin’ in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
  	But, by my sooth! she’ll wait a wee.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
  	A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha first beside his chair shall fa’,
  	He is the King among us three!

1789




English Poetry - http://eng-poetry.ru/english/index.php. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru