III. THE AULD GOOD-MAN.
A Scottish Song.
[_]
We have not been able to meet with a more ancient copy
of this humorous old song, than that printed in the Tea-Table
miscellany, &c. which seems to have admitted some corruptions.
Late in an evening forth I went
A little before the sun gade down,
And there I chanc't, by accident,
To light on a battle new begun:
A man and his wife wer fawn in a strife,
I canna weel tell ye how it began;
But aye she wail'd her wretched life,
Cryeng, Evir alake, mine auld goodman!
He.
Thy auld goodman, that thou tells of,
The country kens where he was born,
Was but a silly poor vagabond,
And ilka ane leugh him to scorn:
For he did spend and make an end
Of gear ‘his fathers nevir’ wan;
He gart the poor stand frae the door;
Sae tell nae mair of thy auld goodman.
She.
My heart, alake! is liken to break,
Whan I think on my winsome John,
His blinkan ee, and gait sae free,
Was naithing like thee, thou dosend drone;
Wi' his rosie face, and flaxen hair,
And skin as white as ony swan,
He was large and tall, and comely withall;
Thou'lt nevir be like mine auld goodman.
He.
Why dost thou plein? I thee maintein;
For meal and mawt thou disna want;
But thy wild bees I canna please,
Now whan our gear gins to grow scant:
Of houshold stuff thou hast enough;
Thou wants for neither pot nor pan;
Of sicklike ware he left thee bare;
Sae tell nae mair of thy auld goodman.
She.
Yes I may tell, and fret my sell,
To think on those blyth days I had,
Whan I and he, together ley
In armes into a well-made bed:
But now I sigh and may be sad,
Thy courage is cauld, thy colour wan,
Thou falds thy feet and fa's asleep;
Thou'lt nevir be like mine auld goodman.
Then coming was the night sae dark,
And gane was a' the light of day?
The carle was fear'd to miss his mark,
And therefore wad nae longer stay:
Then up he gat, and ran his way,
I trowe, the wife the day she wan;
And aye the owreword of the fray
Was, Evir alake! mine auld goodman.
