This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O.
An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O.
Robert Burns - Poems and Songs
I am weary, weary O.
All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,
Like the lands of Virginia,--ginia, O:
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear,
In the lands of Virginia,--ginia, O;
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
O Can Ye Labour Lea?
Chorus--O can ye labour lea, young man,
O can ye labour lea?
It fee nor bountith shall us twine
Gin ye can labour lea.
I fee'd a man at Michaelmas,
Wi' airle pennies three;
But a' the faut I had to him,
He could na labour lea,
O can ye labour lea, &c.
O clappin's gude in Febarwar,
An' kissin's sweet in May;
But my delight's the ploughman lad,
That weel can labour lea,
O can ye labour lea, &c.
O kissin is the key o' luve,
And clappin' is the lock;
An' makin' o's the best thing yet,
That e'er a young thing gat.
O can ye labour lea, &c.
The Deuks Dang O'er My Daddie
The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout,
The deuks dang o'er my daddie, O!
The fien-ma-care, quo' the feirrie auld wife,
He was but a paidlin' body, O!
He paidles out, and he paidles in,
rn' he paidles late and early, O!
This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O.
O haud your tongue, my feirrie auld wife,
O haud your tongue, now Nansie, O:
I've seen the day, and sae hae ye,
Ye wad na ben sae donsie, O.
I've seen the day ye butter'd my brose,
And cuddl'd me late and early, O;
But downa-do's come o'er me now,
And oh, I find it sairly, O!
The Deil's Awa Wi' The Exciseman
The deil cam fiddlin' thro' the town,
And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman,
And ilka wife cries, "Auld Mahoun,
I wish you luck o' the prize, man. "
Chorus--The deil's awa, the deil's awa,
The deil's awa wi' the Exciseman,
He's danc'd awa, he's danc'd awa,
He's danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman.
We'll mak our maut, and we'll brew our drink,
We'll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man,
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil,
That danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman.
The deil's awa, &c.
There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man,
But the ae best dance ere came to the land
Was--the deil's awa wi' the Exciseman.
The deil's awa, &c.
The Country Lass
In simmer, when the hay was mawn,
And corn wav'd green in ilka field,
While claver blooms white o'er the lea
And roses blaw in ilka beild!
Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel,
Says--"I'll be wed, come o't what will":
Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild;
"O' gude advisement comes nae ill.
"It's ye hae wooers mony ane,
And lassie, ye're but young ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale
A routhie butt, a routhie ben;
There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre;
Take this frae me, my bonie hen,
It's plenty beets the luver's fire. "
"For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
I dinna care a single flie;
He lo'es sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae love to spare for me;
But blythe's the blink o' Robie's e'e,
And weel I wat he lo'es me dear:
Ae blink o' him I wad na gie
For Buskie-glen and a' his gear. "
"O thoughtless lassie, life's a faught;
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But aye fu'--han't is fechtin' best,
A hungry care's an unco care:
But some will spend and some will spare,
An' wilfu' folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill. "
"O gear will buy me rigs o' land,
And gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o' leesome love,
The gowd and siller canna buy;
We may be poor--Robie and I--
Light is the burden love lays on;
Content and love brings peace and joy--
What mair hae Queens upon a throne? "
Bessy And Her Spinnin' Wheel
O Leeze me on my spinnin' wheel,
And leeze me on my rock and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me biel and warm at e'en;
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, and milk and meal,
O leeze me on my spinnin' wheel.
All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,
Like the lands of Virginia,--ginia, O:
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear,
In the lands of Virginia,--ginia, O;
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
O Can Ye Labour Lea?
Chorus--O can ye labour lea, young man,
O can ye labour lea?
It fee nor bountith shall us twine
Gin ye can labour lea.
I fee'd a man at Michaelmas,
Wi' airle pennies three;
But a' the faut I had to him,
He could na labour lea,
O can ye labour lea, &c.
O clappin's gude in Febarwar,
An' kissin's sweet in May;
But my delight's the ploughman lad,
That weel can labour lea,
O can ye labour lea, &c.
O kissin is the key o' luve,
And clappin' is the lock;
An' makin' o's the best thing yet,
That e'er a young thing gat.
O can ye labour lea, &c.
The Deuks Dang O'er My Daddie
The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout,
The deuks dang o'er my daddie, O!
The fien-ma-care, quo' the feirrie auld wife,
He was but a paidlin' body, O!
He paidles out, and he paidles in,
rn' he paidles late and early, O!
This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,
An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O.
O haud your tongue, my feirrie auld wife,
O haud your tongue, now Nansie, O:
I've seen the day, and sae hae ye,
Ye wad na ben sae donsie, O.
I've seen the day ye butter'd my brose,
And cuddl'd me late and early, O;
But downa-do's come o'er me now,
And oh, I find it sairly, O!
The Deil's Awa Wi' The Exciseman
The deil cam fiddlin' thro' the town,
And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman,
And ilka wife cries, "Auld Mahoun,
I wish you luck o' the prize, man. "
Chorus--The deil's awa, the deil's awa,
The deil's awa wi' the Exciseman,
He's danc'd awa, he's danc'd awa,
He's danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman.
We'll mak our maut, and we'll brew our drink,
We'll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man,
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil,
That danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman.
The deil's awa, &c.
There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man,
But the ae best dance ere came to the land
Was--the deil's awa wi' the Exciseman.
The deil's awa, &c.
The Country Lass
In simmer, when the hay was mawn,
And corn wav'd green in ilka field,
While claver blooms white o'er the lea
And roses blaw in ilka beild!
Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel,
Says--"I'll be wed, come o't what will":
Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild;
"O' gude advisement comes nae ill.
"It's ye hae wooers mony ane,
And lassie, ye're but young ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale
A routhie butt, a routhie ben;
There's Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre;
Take this frae me, my bonie hen,
It's plenty beets the luver's fire. "
"For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
I dinna care a single flie;
He lo'es sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae love to spare for me;
But blythe's the blink o' Robie's e'e,
And weel I wat he lo'es me dear:
Ae blink o' him I wad na gie
For Buskie-glen and a' his gear. "
"O thoughtless lassie, life's a faught;
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But aye fu'--han't is fechtin' best,
A hungry care's an unco care:
But some will spend and some will spare,
An' wilfu' folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill. "
"O gear will buy me rigs o' land,
And gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o' leesome love,
The gowd and siller canna buy;
We may be poor--Robie and I--
Light is the burden love lays on;
Content and love brings peace and joy--
What mair hae Queens upon a throne? "
Bessy And Her Spinnin' Wheel
O Leeze me on my spinnin' wheel,
And leeze me on my rock and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me biel and warm at e'en;
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, and milk and meal,
O leeze me on my spinnin' wheel.