WAE DAYS FOR ANE AND A'.
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AIR,—“There's nae luck about the house.”
[_]
This Song was written for, and sung at a Benefit Concert, in behalf of
the unemployed weavers of ---, during a great stagnation in trade.
Now simmer's e'e blinks owre the lea,
An' cleads the fields in green,
And blithesome lambs frisk roun' their dams,
Whilk charms the shepherd's een.
The mavis cheers the greenwood shaw,
The lav'rock cheers the hill,
But noucht can drive our cares awa',
As lang's the looms stan' still.
For they're wae days for ane and a',
It ilka joy doth spill,
There's noucht can drive our cares awa',
As lang's the looms stan' still.
Auld Britain lang, in foreign wars,
Has warsled teugh an' dour,
And, spite o' a' their clouts and scars,
Has nobly stood the stour;
But had she tint the fertile source,
That aye her pouch did fill,
A dyvour she had been, of course,
Had a' our looms stood still.
For they're wae days, &c.
The laird comes round to seek his rent,
The tenant noucht can gie;
The factor comes to lift the stent,
But where's the parson's fee?
The vintner looks baith dowff and blae,
And rarely sells a gill—
Now, what's the cause o' a' this wae,
But, that our looms stan' still?
For they're wae days, &c.
Pure gratitude, wi' wish sincere,
Craves liberty to speak,
To thank our benefactors here,
Wi' warm, half-blushin' cheek.
Should trade e'er gi'e a cheerin' blink,
We then, in reamin' yill,
Cap-aff, your healths will often drink,
When ne'er a loom stan's still.
For they're braw days for ane and a',
It gars our bosoms thrill,
When nane o' Scotlan's bairns can shaw
A loom that's stan'in' still.
