Page:Queen Mary's lamentation (3).pdf/7

7 But now its scantly worth a groat,

For I ha'e worn't this thretty year:

Let's spend the gear that we hae won,

We little ken the day we'll die:

Then I'll be proud, since I hae sworn

To hae a new cloke about me.

In days when our King Robert rang,

His trows they coast but ha'f a crown,

He said thy were a groat o'er dear,

And ca'd the tailor thief and loan:

He was a king that wore a crown,

And thou'rt a man of laigh degree;

'Tis pride brings a' the kintra down,

Sae tak’ thy auld cloke about thee.

Every land has its ain laugh,

Ilk kind o' corn has its ain hool;

I think the warld is a' run rang,

When ilka wife her man wad rule;

Do ye not see Rob, Jock, and Hab

How they are girded gallantly,

While I sit hurklin in the ase?

I'll hae a new cloke about me.

Gudeman, I wat 'tis thretty years,

Since we did ane anither ken;

And we hae had between us twa,

O lads and bonny lassies ten:

Now, they are women grown and men,

I wish and pray weel may they be;