Page:Three auld sangs.pdf/7

 Ye thowless wigh's wha ne er hae wed,

Though years hae sil'ered o'er your head...

Lie cauld an‘ restless in your bed,

Whan winter tries you sairly.

Ye re just as daft's the man o‘ Beith,

Your staunch auld friend that liv’d in Beith :

Ye’ll perish like the man o‘ Beith,

Wha dee't ere he could marry.

When ye are auld, gin ye be poor.

Your kin will drive you frae their door:

Gin ye be rich they‘ll use you waur,

They ll never let you marry.

This fate befel the man o‘ Beith,

The poor rich man that liv'd iu Beith,

A warning to the folk o' Beith,

To gang in time and marry.

Loud roared the dreadful thunder,

The rain a deluge shower;

The clouds were rent asunder,

By lightning’s vivid powers.

The night both drear and dark.

Our poor devoted bark,

There she lay,

Till next day,

In the Bay of Biscay, O.