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CHORUS
O
gie my love brose, lasses;
O gie my love brose and butter;
For nane in Carrick wi him
Can gie a cunt its supper.
Jenny
sits up i' the laft,
Jockie wad fain a been at her;
But there cam a wind out o the west
Made a' the winnocks to clatter.
The
laverock lo'es the grass,
The paetrick lo'es the stibble:
And hey, for the gardiner lad,
To gully awa wi his dibble!
My
daddie sent me to the hill
To pu my minnie some heather;
An drive it in your fill,
Ye're welcome to the leather.
The
Mouse is a merry wee beast,
The Moudiewart wants the een;
And O, for a touch o the thing
I had in my nieve yestreen.
We
a' were fou yestreen,
The night shall be its brither;
And hey, for a roaring pin
To nail twa wames thegither!
Poem Index
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