Classic Poem

YOUNG Robin had been at the market,
And hir'd himsel' wi' Craigfast;
Forbye the wee drap in his noddle,
Had got a the wages he ask'd.
He, wha had been toun'd out wi' tenants,
Wou'd soon be head man to the laird—
A point at baith shearin' and mawin',
And bigg a' the ricks i' the yard.
It's right ay for lads to live canty,
And lasses, till they get a man;
For fouks to be social and sober;
And ay as content as they can.

The moor-haggs were wide—but he sten'd them,
He staptnae for stick nor for stane;
Till down by the scroggs o' Congailly,
He met bonny Bet a' her lane.
Ae luck on the back o' anither:
He lang wish'd her kindness to seek;
Nae scene could be sweeter for wooin',
What time was he fitter to speak?
It's right ay for lads to live canty, &c.

“Stay still, tell us where ye've been daun'dering,—
For me, I ha'e been at the town;
See sick a braw knowe there forenent us,
Wou'd maist tempt a saint to sit down.
Hech me! but its lang since I saw you,
And vow! ye're grown gaudy and grand;
The chiels will sae pester and plague ye,
For peace sake ye maun tak' a man.”
It's right ay for lads to live canty, &c.

But Bet looket blate like an' bashfu',
She sigh'd and said naething ava;
Hang her head—row'd a strae roun' her finger,
Gar'd Robin aye closer to draw.
He prest her, he courted, he clapped,
Snapt a kiss, for it weel on was dark;
Whan, to crown a' his hopes in a hurry,
She ha'flins said aye in a hark.
It's right ay for lads to live canty, &c.

Ay lyin' ane's lane soon grows dowie;
Sae Robin thought lang for a spouse;
Fareweel to the freaks o' the market,
The lang wage an' braw gentle house.
The auld fouks were couthy and kin'ly,
The bridal was hurried aff han';
Sae kindly's they cuddled the gither,
But houses, or haddin, or lan'.
It's right ay for lads to live canty, &c.

But wha can tell how things may alter,
Or what a ha'f year brings about;
For Robin turn'd dowffer and duller,
As Betty began to speak out.
She cries out for this and for that thing,
Like a bell thro' his lug her tongue twangs;
And ay siken matches she might ha'en,
While he sits as dumb as the tangs.
It's right ay for lads to live canty, &c.