Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/76

58

Come, lowse your heart, ye man o' the muir;

We tell our distress ere we look for a cure:

There's laws for a wrang, and sa's for a sair;

Sae, Tammy, my man, what wad ye ha'e mair?

Oh! neebour, it neither was thresher nor thief,

That deepened my e'e, and lichtened my beef;

But the word that makes me sae waefu' and wan,

Is—Tam o' the Balloch's a married man!

[ by, to the tune of "Maids of Arrochar."]