 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
RATTLIN, ROARIN WILLIE
I
O, rattlin, roarin Willie,O, he held to the fair,
An' for to sell his fiddle
And buy some other ware;
But parting wi' his fiddle,
The saut tear blin't his e'e—
And, rattlin, roarin Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me!
II
‘O Willie, come sell your fiddle,O, sell your fiddle sae fine!
O Willie come sell your fiddle
And buy a pint o' wine!’
‘If I should sell my fiddle,
The warld would think I was mad;
For monie a rantin day
My fiddle and I hae had.’
36
III
As I cam by Crochallan,I cannily keekit ben,
Rattlin, roarin Willie
Was sitting at yon boord-en':
Sitting at yon boord-en',
And amang guid companie!
Rattlin, roarin Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me.
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |