Lass wi' the twa-handed wheel/Lass wi' the twa-handed wheel

THE

LASS Wi’the TWA-HANDED WHEEL.

In my youth I became a great tramper,
⁠till love set my head in a creel;
Thro’ city and town I did scamper,
⁠O’er ilk hill, muir, mountain, and dale.
’Twas then I gae’d to the mishanter,
⁠when forc'd frae the arms o’ sweet Nell;
Fate said I would never supplant her,
⁠the Lass wi’ the twa-handed Wheel.

Leander in love was ne’er blinder,
⁠like him I ran straught on extremes;
I tried ev'ry-where for to find her,
⁠from bonny sweet Tay to the Thames:
Then I ran to the sea helter-skelter,
⁠and rang’d o’er tho banks o’ the Nile,
I fought thro renown’d Gibraltar,
⁠for the Lass wi’ the twa handed Wheel.

I went to the gude town of Cadiz,
⁠to see if her there I could find,
But nane o braw Spanish ladies
⁠could in the least alter my mind.
Spain, Portugal I did abandon,
⁠and seas mountains high I did speel,
Thro’ England I travelled d to London,
⁠for the Lass wi’ the twa-handed Wheel.

But beauty it soon turns tasteless,
⁠and luxury likewise grows stale,
For Cupid had render’d me restless,
⁠‘till arriv'd in the land of Oatmeal;
There I met wi’ the pride o' Dunnotter,
⁠for whom I had long stood at drill,
Saw blyth in Auld Reekie I got her,
⁠the Lass wi’ the twa-handed Wheel.

O fools may gae hunt after riches,
⁠they're nought but a trifling garb,
Tho‘ my bonny Lass is nae Dutchess,
⁠yet ilk year she spins me a web:
For beauty and virtue’s her portion,
⁠now and than there’s a lass or a chiel;
I ne‘er will repent my exertions
⁠for the Lass wi‘ the twa-handed Wheel.

And now I have baith peace and pleasure,
⁠my mind it is settled and still,
My Nell’s my delight and my treasure,
⁠and love her for ever I will.
Tho’ now I’ve been seven years married,
⁠new joys ev’ry day I do feel!
I’ll ay bless the time I preferred
⁠the Lass wi’ the twa-handed Wheel.

She’s nae senseless vain idle taupie,
⁠gaen clashin’ about here and there,
She studies to make me ay happy,
⁠and snod-like at Kirk and at Fair;
‘Mang neighbours she raises nae ferment,
⁠house-secrets does never reveal.
But sits in the house wi’ contentment,
⁠and tugs at the twa-handed Wheel.