The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill With biography, illustrations, and music |
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RAB RORYSON'S BONNET. |
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 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
RAB RORYSON'S BONNET.
Ye 'll a' ha'e heard tell o' Rab Roryson's bonnet,
Ye 'll a ha'e heard tell o' Rab Roryson's bonnet;
'Twas no for itsel', 'twas the head that was in it,
Gar'd a' bodies talk o' Rab Roryson's bonnet.
Ye 'll a ha'e heard tell o' Rab Roryson's bonnet;
'Twas no for itsel', 'twas the head that was in it,
Gar'd a' bodies talk o' Rab Roryson's bonnet.
This bonnet, that theekit his wonderfu' head,
Was his shelter in winter, in simmer his shade;
And at kirk, or at market, or bridals, I ween,
A braw gawcier bonnet there never was seen.
Was his shelter in winter, in simmer his shade;
And at kirk, or at market, or bridals, I ween,
A braw gawcier bonnet there never was seen.
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Wi' a round rosy tap, like a meikle blackboyd,
It was slouched just a kenning on either hand side;
Some maintained it was black, some maintained it was blue,
It had something o' baith, as a body may trow.
It was slouched just a kenning on either hand side;
Some maintained it was black, some maintained it was blue,
It had something o' baith, as a body may trow.
But, in sooth, I assure you, for ought that I saw,
Still his bonnet had naething uncommon ava';
Though the whole parish talked o' Rab Roryson's bonnet,
'Twas a' for the marvellous head that was in it.
Still his bonnet had naething uncommon ava';
Though the whole parish talked o' Rab Roryson's bonnet,
'Twas a' for the marvellous head that was in it.
That head, let it rest—it is now in the mools,—
Though in life a' the warld beside it were fools;
Yet o' what kind o' wisdom his head was possessed,
Nane e'er kenned but himsel', sae there 's nane that will miss't.
Though in life a' the warld beside it were fools;
Yet o' what kind o' wisdom his head was possessed,
Nane e'er kenned but himsel', sae there 's nane that will miss't.
There are some still in life wha eternally blame,
Wha on buts and on ifs rear their fabric o' fame;
Unto such I inscribe this most elegant sonnet,
Sae let them be crooned wi' Rab Roryson's bonnet!
Wha on buts and on ifs rear their fabric o' fame;
Unto such I inscribe this most elegant sonnet,
Sae let them be crooned wi' Rab Roryson's bonnet!
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |