BAILIE NICOL JARVIE'S JOURNEY TO
ABERFOIL
AIR—Quaker's Wife
You may talk o' your Wallace, and talk o' your Bruce
And talk o' your fechting Red Reiver;
But whar will you find a great man o' sic use
As a thorough-bred Saut-Market weaver?
Let ance Nicol Jarvie come under your view,
At hame whar the people adore me;
Wher they made me a bailie, and counsellor
too,
Like my father, the deacon, before me.
The clavering chiels, in the clachan hard by,
They'll no gie a body but hard words:
My faith! they shall find, if again they will
try,
A het poker's as guide as their braid swords.
"It's as weel though to let that flea stick fast
to the wa';"
For mayhap the may chance to claymore me;
To let "sleepin' dogs lie" is the best thing
ava',
Said my father, the deacon, before me.
My poor cousin Rab, an' his terrible wife,
