( 3 )
Whare shall our gudeman lie?
The gleed Earl of Kelly.
Toodle butt, and foodie ben,
Hey, Tam Brandy;
Crack a louse on Maggy’s Wame,
Little Cocky Bendy
There’s three sheep’s skins,
The barber and his bason;
The bonnie lass o’ Patie’s Mill,
Wi’ the free and accepted mason.
On Ettrick banks, ae simmer night,
The cliffy rocks, in view, man,
Kath’rine Ogie gat a fright,
’Mang Scotland’s bells sae blue, man,
O wally, wally, up yon wood,
And down by bonny Yarrow,
The lassie lost her silken snood
Wi’ Wil’ her winsome marrow.
Stately stapt he east the wa',
The tad I darena name, man;
Geordie reigns in Charlie’s ha’;
Send Lewie Gordon hame, man;
In winter when the rain rain’d cauld,
Wil’ brew’d a peck o’ maut man;
John Anderson ye’re growing auld,
Pit a sheep’s head i’ the pat man,
