Musical garland/I'll soon hae a wife o' my ain

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I'll soon hae a wife o‘ my ain.

Frae Clyde to the banks o’ sweet Earn,
⁠I’ve travel’d fu’ mony lang mile,
But thoughts o' my dearest sweet Annie,
⁠the wearisome hours did beguile:
The happy wae night that we parted,
⁠she vow’d she wou’d constant remain;
Thy heart strings a’ dirl’d wi' fondness!
⁠I kiss’d, and I kiss’d her again.

Tis no cause her cheeks are like roses,
⁠nor yet for her dark rollin’ e’e,
Tis no for her sweet comely features,
⁠these charms are naething to me.
The storms o’ life may soon blast them,
⁠or sickness make them fade away;
But virtue when fix’d in the bosom,
⁠will flourish, and never decay.

Nae langer I’ll spend a’ my siller,
⁠nae langer I’ll now ly my lane;
Nae langer I'll hunt after hizzies,
⁠I’ll soon ha’e a wife o’ my ain.
⟨For⟩ mony wild foot I ha’e wander’d,
⁠and mony lang night spent in vain,
Wi' drinkin’ and dancin’, and courtin’,

⁠but I'll soon hae a wife o‘ my ain.

Her mither's ay flytin' and roarin',
⁠I rede you tak‘ tent o‘ that chiel;
He'll no be that canny to live wi‘,
⁠he'll ne'er be like douse, Geordy Steel,
He's courted wi' o'er mony lasses,
⁠to slight them he thinks it gude fun;
He'll mak' but a sober ha'f-marrow,
⁠ye'll best rue before ye be bound.

Tho' Geordy ba laird of a house,
⁠and brags o' his kye and his pelf,
Tho' warld's gear I be right seant o',
⁠a fig for t, as lang's I've my health:
If unee I were kippel'd wi' Annie,
⁠she'll seldom ha'e cause to complain;
We'll jog on through life ay right eanny,
⁠when I get a wife o' my ain.

But if that my Annie prove faithless,
⁠And marry before I return;
I'll no, like a cuiff, greet about her,
⁠nor yet for ae minute will mourn;
Awa' straight to some ither beauty,
⁠without loss o' time I will hie;
And show to the lasses I'm careless,
⁠unless they're as willin' as I.