Yet each true hearted Scotchman, by nature jocoſe,
Loves always to dine on a diſh of gude broſe,
And thanks be to Praiſe, we’ve yet plenty of thoſe,
O! the kail broſe of auld Scotland,
An’ O the Scotiſh kail broſe.
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THE HUMBLE BEGGAR.
IN Scotland there lived a humble Beggar,
He had neither houſe, nor hauld, nor hame,
But he was well liked by ilka bodie,
And they gae him ſunkets to rax his wame.
A nivefow o’ meal, and a handfow o’ groats,
A dadd o’ bannock, or herring brie,
Cauld parrage, or the lickings o’ plates,
Wad made him as blyth as a beggar cou’d be.
This Beggar he was a humble Beggar,
The ſcint a bit o’ pride had he,
He wad a ta’en his a’ms in a bikker,
Frae gentleman, or poor bodie.
His wallets a-hint and a-fore did hang,
In as good order as wallets cau’d be:
A lang kail-gully hang down by his ſide.
And a meikle nowt-horn to rout on had he.
It happened ill, it happened warſe,
It happened ſae, that he did die:
And wha do ye think was at his late-wake,
But lads and laſſes o’ high degree.
Some were blyth, and ſome were ſad.
And ſome they play’d at blind Harrie;
But ſuddenly up-ſtarted the auld Carle,
I redd ye, good fowks, tak tent o’ me.
