The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Laird o' Lamington.
|
 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
The Laird o' Lamington.
Can I bear to part wi' thee,
Never mair your face to see?
Can I bear to part wi' thee,
Drunken Laird o' Lamington?
Canty war ye o'er your kale,
Toddy jugs, an' caups o' ale,
Heart aye kind, an' leal, an' hale.
Honest Laird o' Lamington.
Never mair your face to see?
Can I bear to part wi' thee,
Drunken Laird o' Lamington?
Canty war ye o'er your kale,
Toddy jugs, an' caups o' ale,
Heart aye kind, an' leal, an' hale.
Honest Laird o' Lamington.
He that swears is but so so,
He that lies to hell must go,
He that falls in bagnio,
Falls in the devil's frying-pan.
Wha wa'st ne'er pat aith to word?
Never lied for duke nor lord?
Never sat at sinfu' board?
The honest Laird o' Lamington.
He that lies to hell must go,
He that falls in bagnio,
Falls in the devil's frying-pan.
Wha wa'st ne'er pat aith to word?
Never lied for duke nor lord?
Never sat at sinfu' board?
The honest Laird o' Lamington.
He that cheats can ne'er be just;
He that prays is ne'er to trust;
He that drinks to drauck his dust,
Wha can say that wrang is done?
Wha was't ne'er to fraud inclin'd?
Never pray'd sin' he can mind?
Ane wha's drouth there's few can find?
The honest Laird o' Lamington.
He that prays is ne'er to trust;
He that drinks to drauck his dust,
Wha can say that wrang is done?
Wha was't ne'er to fraud inclin'd?
Never pray'd sin' he can mind?
Ane wha's drouth there's few can find?
The honest Laird o' Lamington.
I like a man to tak' his glass,
Toast a friend or bonnie lass;
He that winna is an ass—
Deil send him ane to gallop on!
I like a man that's frank an' kind,
Meets me when I have a mind,
Sings his sang, an' drinks me blind,
Like the Laird o' Lamington.
Toast a friend or bonnie lass;
He that winna is an ass—
Deil send him ane to gallop on!
I like a man that's frank an' kind,
Meets me when I have a mind,
Sings his sang, an' drinks me blind,
Like the Laird o' Lamington.
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |