Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/102

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CHORUS.
Sing, hey, my braw John Highlandman!
Sing, ho, my braw John Highlandman!
There's no a lad in a' the lan'
Was match for my John Highlandman.

With his philibeg an' tartan plaid,
An' gude claymore down by his side,
The ladies' hearts he did trepan,
My gallant, braw John Highlandman.
Sing hey, etc.  

We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey,
An' liv'd like lords an' ladies gay;
For a Lalland face he feared none, —
My gallant, braw John Highlandman.
Sing hey, etc.  

They banish'd him beyond the sea,
But ere the bud was on the tree,
Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,
Embracing my John Highlandman.
Sing hey, etc. 

But, oh! they catch'd him at the last,
And bound him in a dungeon fast;
My curse upon them every ane,
They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman!
Sing hey, etc. 

And now a widow, I must mourn
The pleasures that will ne'er return;
No comfort but a hearty can,
When I think on John Highlandman.
Sing hey, etc. 

RECITATIVO.
A pigmy Scraper wi' his fiddle,
Wha us'd at trystes and fairs to driddle,
Her strappin limb and gaucy middle
(He reach'd nae higher),
Had hol't his heartie like a riddle,
And blawn't on fire.

Wi' hand on haunch, and upward e'e,
He croon'd his gamut, ane, twa, three,
Then in an Arioso key,
The wee Apollo
Set aff, wi' Allegretto glee,
His giga solo.

AIR.
Tune—'Whistle owre the lave o't.'

Let me ryke up to dight that tear,
And go wi' me and be my dear,
And then your every care and fear
May whistle owre the lave o't.

CHORUS.
I am a fiddler to my trade,
And a' the tunes that e'er I play'd,
The sweetest still to wife or maid,
Was whistle owre the lave o't.

At kirns and weddings we'se be there,
And oh! sae nicely's we will fare;
We'll bouse about, till Daddie Care
Sing whistle owre the lave o't.
I am, etc.  

Sae merrily's the banes we'll pyke,
And sun oursels about the dyke,
And at our leisure, when ye like,
We'll whistle owre the lave o't.
I am, etc. 

But bless me wi' your heav'n o' charms,
And while I kittle hair on thairms,
Hunger, cauld, and a' sic harms,
May whistle owre the lave o't.
I am, etc. 

RECITATIVO.
Her charms had struck a sturdy Caird,
As well as poor Gut-scraper;
He taks the fiddler by the beard,
And draws a roosty rapier—

He swoor, by a' was swearing worth,
To spit him like a pliver,
Unless he wad from that time forth
Relinquish her for ever.

Wi' ghastly ee, poor tweedle-dee
Upon his hunkers bended,
And pray'd for grace, wi' ruefu' face,
And sae the quarrel ended.