The Wanter.
[Air, "The green purse."]
I ha'e a green purse and a wee pickle gowd,
A bonnie piece lan' an' a plantin' on't,
It fattens my flocks, an' my barns it has stow'd,
But the best thing o' a's yet a-wantin' on't.
There's a but and a ben, a stable, a byre,
A guid kale yard and a weel snecket yett,
Wi' plenty o' peats to throw o' the fire,
But the best thing o' a's a wantin' yet.
I thought o' a wife for ten years and mair,
But nane will answer that stops hereabout,
And I ha'e nae time to gang here and there;
A wanter I am, and I'll bide sae, I doubt.
A bonnie tame paltrick I wared upon Bell,
A sweet singin' mavis to Jeanie I gied,
To Betty I plainly did offer mysel',
She saw the green purse, but I didna succeed.
So I've done my duty; fareweel to all folly;
I'll tak' up my buik, and I'll sit in my chair,
Wi' my red nicht-cap, my cat, and my colly,
Contented and cheerfu', tho' sixty and mair.