 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
48
I 'll HIE ME TO THE SHIELING HILL.
I 'll hie me to the shieling hill,
And bide amang the braes, Callum,
Ere I gang to Crochan mill,
I 'll live on hips and slaes, Callum.
Wealthy pride but ill can hide
Your runkl'd measled shins, Callum;
Lyart pow, as white's the tow,
And beard as rough's the whins, Callum.
And bide amang the braes, Callum,
Ere I gang to Crochan mill,
I 'll live on hips and slaes, Callum.
Wealthy pride but ill can hide
Your runkl'd measled shins, Callum;
Lyart pow, as white's the tow,
And beard as rough's the whins, Callum.
Wily woman aft deceives,
Sae ye 'll think, I ween, Callum;
Trees may keep their wither'd leaves
Till ance they get the green, Callum.
Blithe young Donald's won my heart,
Has my willing vow, Callum;
Now, for a' your couthy art,
I winna marry you, Callum.
Sae ye 'll think, I ween, Callum;
Trees may keep their wither'd leaves
Till ance they get the green, Callum.
Blithe young Donald's won my heart,
Has my willing vow, Callum;
Now, for a' your couthy art,
I winna marry you, Callum.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |