 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
156
THE LASS O' ECCLEFECHAN
I
‘Gat ye me, O, gat ye me,Gat ye me wi' naething?
Rock an' reel, an' spinning wheel,
A mickle quarter basin:
Bye attour, my gutcher has
A heich house and a laich ane,
A' forbye my bonie sel,
The toss o' Ecclefechan!’
II
‘O, haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,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 Lucky Lang,
Wad airt me to my treasure.’
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |