4
My Cromy is a useful cow,
And she is come of a good kyne;
Aft has she wet the bairn's mou',
And I am laith that she should tyne:
Get up, goodman, it is fou time,
The sun shines in the lift fue hie;
Sloth never made a gracious end,
Go tak' your auld cloak about ye.
My cloak was anes a good grey cloak,
When it was fitting for my wear;
But now 'tis scantly worth a groat,
For I have worn't this mony a year:
Let's spend the gear that we have won,
We little ken the day we'll die;
Then I'll be proud, since I have sworn
To have a new cloak about me.
In days when our King Robert rang,
His hose they cost but half-a-crown;
Yet said they were a groat o'er dear,
And call'd the taylor thief and lown.
He was the king that wore the crown,
And thou a man of laigh degree;
'Tis pride puts a' the country down,
Sae tak' your auld cloak about ye.
Every land has its ain laugh,
Ilk kind of corn it has its hool,
I think the world is a' gane daft,
When ilka wife her man would rule;
Do ye not see Rob, Jock, and Hab,
How they are girded gallantly,
