Page:Twa weavers.pdf/2



THE TWA WEAVERS.

When war and taxation had fleec’d us right sair,

And made us like scaur-crows, a’ ragged and bare,

Two poor weaver bodies ae day chanc’d to meet,

Wi' scarcely a shoe on their stockingless feet;

Their skin through their auld tatter’d cleeding did shine,

And their beards might hae pass’d for a Bishop’s langsyne.

"Weel Robin" quo’ Thomas "what way do ye fen

And do ye aye live yet, out by at Woodend?

"Live!—faith I live naewhere, I starve at Tolcross,

Gude troth, I'm owre like you, and that is our loss;

For ilka thing now, does against us combine,

Which gar’s look back, wi’ regret on langsyne.