18
For, silly thing, she never mist
To hae ilk year a lamb or twa.
The ewie, &c.
The first she had I gae to Jock,
To be to him a kind of stock.
And now the laddie has a flock,
O’ mair than thirty head to ca’.
The ewie &c.
The neist I gae to Jean, and noo
The bairn's sae bra’, has fauld sae fu',
That lads sae thick come her to woo,
They’re fain to sleep on hay or straw.
The ewie, &c.
Yet Monday last, for a’ my keeping,
I canna’ speak it without greeting,
A villian came, when l was sleeping,
An’ staw my ewie, horn an a’,
The ewie, &c.
I sought her sair upon the morn.
And down beneath a buss o’ thorn
I got my ewe’s crooked horn:
But, ah! my ewie was awa'
The ewie, &c.
But gin I had the loon that did it,
I've sworn and ban'd as well as said it,
Tho’ a’ the world sbou’d forbid it,
I wad gie bis neck a tbraw,
The ewie, &c.
