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And when wi’ age we’re worn down,
And hirpling round the door,
They’ll row to keep us warm and dry,
As we did them before.
Then weel may the boatie row,
She wins the bairns’ bread;
And happy be the lot of a’
That wish the boat to speed.
within a mile of edinburgh.
’Twas within a mile of Edinburgh town,
In the rosy time of the year,
Sweet flow’rs bloom’d, and the grass was down,
And each shepherd woo’d his dear.
Bonny Jockie, blythe and gay,
Kiss’d sweet Jenny making hay;
The lassie blush’d, and frowning cried,
Na, na, it winna do;
I canna, canna, winna, winna, manna buckle to.
Jockie was a wag that never wad wed,
Tho’ lang he had follow’d the lass;
Contented she earn’d and ate her brown bread,
