Page:Gems of Tannahill's songs, &c. &c..pdf/14

 14 The lads and the lasses were dying in dizzens, The tean kill'd wi' love, and the tither wi spleen, The ploughing, the sawing, the shearing, the mawing, A’ wark was forgotten for Barrochan Jean. Frae the South and the North o'er the Tweed and the Forth, Sic coming and ganging there never was seen; The comers were cheery, the gangers were blearie, Despairing or hoping for Barrochan Jean. The carlins at hame were a grining and granning, The bairns were a' greeting frae morning till e'en, They gat naething for crowdy, but runts boiled to sowdy, For naething gat growing for Barrochan Jean. The doctors declar'd it was past their describing, The ministers said 'twas a judgment for sin, But they looked sae blae, and there hearts were de sae wae, I was sure they were dying for Barrochan Jean. The burns on road-sides were a' dry wi' their drinking, Yet a' wadna sloken the drouth o' their skin; Around the peat-stacks, and alangst the dyke-backs, The winds were a sighing, Sweet Barrochan Jean. The timmer ran done wi' the making of coffins, Kirkyards o' their sward were a howkit full clean,