The Book of Scottish Song/The Flittin' o' the Cow

The Flittin' o' the Cow.

[Alex. Smart.—Air, "Tak' your auld Cloak about ye."]

In summer, when the fields were green,
⁠An' heather bells bloomed ower the lea,
An' hawthorns lent their leafy screen,
⁠A fragrant bield for bird an' bee;
Our hawkie in the clover field
⁠Was chewin' her cud wi' gratefu' mou',
And our gudewife, wi' eydent hand,
⁠Had just been out to flit the cow.

O, our gudeman's a leal gudeman,
⁠But nane maun daur to say him na;
There's nae a laird in a' the lan'
⁠Wi' higher hand maintains the law.
Though he be poor he's unco proud,
⁠An' aye maun be obeyed at hame;
An' there, when he's in angry mood,
⁠Wha conters him may rue the same.

"Gae flit the cow!" says our gudeman:—
⁠Wi' ready tongue the dame replies,
"Gudeman, it is already done"—
⁠"Gae flit the cow!" again he cries.
"My will ye'll do wi' hand an' heart,
⁠If ye're a wife baith kind an' true;
Obedience is the woman's part—
⁠Make haste, gudewife, an' flit the cow!"

"Gudeman, ye're surely clean gane gyte,
⁠The cow's already flittit been;
To see you fume an' hear you flyte,
⁠I ferlie meikle what ye mean.
What need to gang an' do again
⁠The thing that I ha'e done e'en now?
What idle tantrum's this ye've ta'en?"—
⁠"I say, gudewife, gae flit the cow!

"Gudeman, when we were lad an' lass,
⁠Your tongue was like a honey kaim;
An' aye ye vow'd ye'd ne'er prove fause,
⁠But kythe like ony lamb at hame.
But now ye look sae dark an' doure,
⁠Wi' angry e'e an' crabbit mou',
Ye gar me aften rue the hour"———
⁠"I say, gudewife, gae flit the cow!"

Syne he began to loup an' ban,
⁠When out the wife flew in a huff;
"Come back! come back!" cries our gudeman,
⁠"Come back! obedience is enough!
My sovereign will ye maun obey,
⁠When my commands are laid on you;
Obedient, baith by night an' day,
⁠An' ready aye to flit the cow!"

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