Classic Poem

The women are a' gane wud!
Oh, thaThe had bidden awa'!
He's turn'd their heads, the lad;
And ruin will bring on us a'.
I aye was a peaceable man,
My wife she did doucely behave;
But noo, do a' that I can,
She's just as wild as the lave.

My wife noo wears the cockade ,
Tho' she kens 'tis the thing that I hate;
There's ane, too, preen'd on her maid,
An' baith will tak' their ain gate.
The wile Hieland lads as they pass,
The yetts wide open do flee;
They eat the very house bare,
And nae leave's speer'd o' me.

I've lived a' my days in the Strath,
Now Tories infest me at hame,
And though I take nae side at a',
Baith sides will gi'e me the blame.
The senseless creatures ne'er think
What ill the lad wad bring back;
The Pope we'll hae, and his hounds,
And a' the rest o' his pack.