Page:Bess the Gawkie (3).pdf/6

 Here's t'ye M ‘Farlsue! here's t‘ye my heroes,

The wale o‘ the kintra, weel wurdie a‘ can;

Ye‘re the relics and proofs of our auld Scottish nation;

O! the crony o cronies, a cracky auld man.

Down in yon village I live so snug,

They call me Giles the plowman's boy;

Through woods and o'er stiles, as I trudge many miles

I whistle, I whistle, and whoop, gee woo, Jerry.

My work being done to the lawn there I fly,

Where the lads at the lasses all look very sly;

And I‘ze deeply in love with a girl it is true,

And I know what I know, but i munna tell you:

But I‘ll whistle, I‘ll whistle, for of all the girls I ever


 * did see,

O cherry-cheek Patty for me.

Though the squire so great, so lappy mayn‘t be,

As poor simple Giles the plowman‘s boy;

No matters of state ever addle my pate,

But I‘ll whistle I‘ll whistle, and whoop gee woo, Jerry

Now cherry-cheek Patty she lives in a vale,

Whom I help‘d o‘er the stile, with her milking pail;

And Patty has a like notion of me, it is true,

And I know what I know, but I munna tell you:


 * But I‘ll whistle, &c.

I‘se able and strong, and willing to work,

And when the lark rises off trudges I;

The cows up I call, and harness old Ball,

I whistle, I whistle, and whoop, gee woo, Jerry.