THE BAD WIFE.
O Jamie lad, hear my advice,
And warnin’ tak’ by me, man,
For if you get a wife like me,
You’ll rue’t until ye die, man:
For when that I was in my youth,
Like you, I then could quench my drouth,
But now I darena wet my mouth,
For Maggy's tongue, de’il drive her outh
To some place far awa’, man.
On Sunday, if I spier for Will,
She swears I’m seeking drink, man:
Then o'er my head wi' furious rage,
The tangs aloud will clink, man.
This is the life that I must bear,
She'll harle out my very hair;
And then she’ll rage, and curse, and swear,
And cry, Ye dog, I'll gi’e ye mair,
Tho’ for ye I should die, man.
And Jamie, when I got her first,
I thought myself enrich'd man:
Her beauty, and her bonny claes
They had me sae bewitch’d, man.
I had nae power to see her ill,
She led me captive at her will,
