Complete Songs Of Robert Burns - online book

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IX. MISCELLANEOUS
3*3
1 It's neither your stot nor your staig I shall crave (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme),
But gie me your wife, man, for her I must have' (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
'Oh! welcome, most kindly,' the blythe carl said (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme),
' But if ye can match her,—ye're waur than ye're ca'd' (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
The devil has got the auld wife on his back (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme),
And, like a poor pedlar, he 's carried his pack
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
He 's carried her hame to his ain hallan-door (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme),
Syne bade her gae in for a bitch and a whore
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
Then straight he makes fifty, the pick o' his band (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme),
Turn out on her guard in the clap o' a hand
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
The .carlin gaed thro' them like ony wud bear (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme) :
Whae'er she gat hands on cam near her nae mair (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
A reekit wee deevil looks over the wa'
(Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme) :
' O, help, master, help! or she'll ruin us a'!'
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
The devil he swore by the edge o' his knife (Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme),
He pitied the man that was tied to a wife (And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).
The devil be swore by the kirk and the bell
(Hey and the rue "grows bonie wi' thyme). He was not in wedlock, thank Heaven, but in hell
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime). Then Satan has travell'd again wi' his pack
(Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme), And to her auld husband he's carried her back
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime). ' I hae been a devil the feck o' my life
(Hey and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme), But ne'er was in hell till I met wi' a wife
(And the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime).






E-Book - An Annotated Compendium of Old Time American Songs by James Alverson III