Robert Burns

The Lass of Ecclefechan

GAT ye me, O gat ye me,
  O gat ye me wi’ naething?
Rock and reel, and spinnin’ wheel,
  A mickla quarter basin.
Bye attour, my gutcher has
  A heigh house and a laigh ane,
A’ forbye, my bonnie sel’,
  The toss of Ecclefechan.

O haud your tongue now, Luckie Laing,
  O haud your tongue and jauner;
I held the gate till you I met,
  Syne I began to wander:
I tint my whistle and my sang,
  I tint my peace and pleasure;
But your green graff, now, Luckie Laing,
  Wad airt me to my treasure.