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Robert Tannahill

 

 

                                                                               

 

 

 

 

 

 

An War Ye At Duntocher Burn?

 

 

                       

 

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An war ye at Duntocher burn ?
An did ye see them a, man ?
An how's my wifie an the bairns ?
I hae been lang awa, man.
This hedger wark's a weary trade,
It doesna suit ava man ;

Wi lanely house an lanely bed
My comforts are but sma, man.

 

An how's wee Sandy, Pate, an Tam ?
Sit doun an tak your blaw, man ;
Fey, lassie, rin, fetch in a dram,
Tae treat my frien, John Lamon ;
For ilka plack ye've gien tae mine,
Your callans shall get twa, man ;
O were my heels as licht's my heart,
I sune wad see them a, man.

 

My blessing on her kindly heart,
She likes tae see me braw, man ;
She's darnt my hose, an bleacht my sarks
As white's the driven snaw, man.
An ere the win's o Martinmas
Sough thro the scroggie shaw, man,
I'll lift my weel hain't penny fee,
An gang an see them a, man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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