Page:Lewie Gordon (2).pdf/4

 Stout gates of brass, and well-built walls.

Are proof ’gainst swords and cannonballs,

But nought is found by sea or land,

That can a wayward wife withstand. 



I've been courting at a lass,

These twenty days and mair;

Her father winna gie me her,

She has sic a gleib of gear.

But gin I had her where I would,

Amang the heather here,

I'd strive to win her kindness,

For a‘ her father's care.

For she's a bonny sonsie lass,

An armsfu', I swear;

I would marry her without a coat,

Or e‘er a plack o' gear.

For, trust me, when I saw her first,

She gae me sic a wound,

That a' the doctors i' the earth

Can never mak me sound.