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.