Page:Weary pund o' tow.pdf/2

 The weary pund o' Tow.

THE weary pund, the weary pund, The weary pund o' tow : I think my wife will end her life, Before she spin her tow : I bought my wife a stane o' lint, As good as e'er did grow; And a' that she has made of that, Is ae poor pund o' tow. The weary pund, the weary pund, The weary pund o' tow; I think my wife will end her life, Before she spin her tow. There sat a bottle in the bole, Beyont the ingle low, An' ay she took the tither souk, To drouk the stourie tow. The weary pund, &c Quoth I, "For shame, ye dirty dame Gae spin' your tap o' tow." She took the rock, and wi' a knock She brack it o'er my pow. The weary pund, &c At last her feet, I sang to see't, Gaed foremost o'er the knowe,