The Flowers of the Forest (Scott)/Auld Rob Morris

AULD ROB MORRIS.

MITHER.
AULD Rob Morris that wins in yon glen,
He’s the king o’good fellows, and wale o’ auld men,
Has fourscore o black sheep, and fourscore too;
Auld Rob Morris is the man you maun lo’e.

DOUGHTER.
Haud your tongue, mither, and let that abee,
For his ield and my ield will never agree;
They’ll never agree, and that will be seen,
For he’s fourscore, and I’m but fifteen.

MITHER.
Hand your tongue, doughter, and lay by your pride.
For he’s be the bridegroom, and ye’s be the bride;
He shall ly by your side, and kiss ye too;
Auld Rob Morris is the man you maun lo’e.

DOUGHTER.
Auld Rob Morris I ken him fu’ weel,
His arse it sticks out like ony peet-creel;
He’s out-shin’d, in-knee’d, and ringle-ey’d too;
Auld Rob Morris is the man I’ll ne’er lo’e.

MITHER.
Tho’ Auld Rob Morris be an elderly man,
Yet his auld brass it wi⟨ll⟩ buy a new pan:
Then, Doughter, ye shoudna be sae ill to shoe.
For Auld Rob Morris is the man you maun lo’e.

DOUGHTER.
But Auld Rob Morris I never will hae,
His back is grown stiff, and his beard is grown grey,
I had rather die than live with him a year;
Sae mair of Rob Morris I never will hear.

F I N I S.