Page:Hawking wench, or, Gowf my logie.pdf/6



It's I will wash my ploughman's hose,
 * and I will wash his o’erlay.

And I will mak my ploughman's bed,
 * and chear him late and early. Up wi'ta',&c

It's merry but, and merry ben,
 * it's merry is my ploughman;

Of all the trades that I do ken,
 * commend me to the ploughman. Up, &c

Plow on yon hill, plow on yon dale,
 * plow yon haugh and fallow,

Wha winna drink the ploughman's health,
 * is but a dirty fallow.
 * Up wi’t a' my ploughman lad, &c.

HERE liv'd a wife in our town-end,
 * she lo'ed a drap o' cappie O,

And a’ the gear that e'er she gat,
 * she slipt it in her gabbie O.

Upon a frosty winter night,
 * the wife had got a drappie O,

And she did pish her coats sae weel,
 * she con'd nae find the pattie O.

But she's awa' to her goodman,
 * they ca'd him Tamie Lamie O,

Gae ben and fetch the key to me,
 * that I may get a drammie O,