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Here’s 'the land of Shilelah’, and long may the sod
By the firm foot of friendship and freedom be trod.
MAGGY LAUDER.
Wha wadna be in love
Wi’ bonny Maggy Lauder?
A piper met her gaun to Fife,
And spier’d what was’t they ca’d her:
Right scornfully she answer’d him,
Begone you hallanshaker:
Jogg on your gate, you bladderskate,
My name is Maggy Lauder.
Maggy, quo’ he, and by my bags,
I’m fidging fain to see ye;
Sit down by me my bonny bird,
In trote I winna steer thee:
For I'm a piper to my trade,
My name is Rob the Ranter,
The lasses loup as they were daft,
When I blaw up my chanter.
Piper, quo’ Meg, ha’e ye your bags,
Or is your drone in order?
If you be Rob, I’ve heard of you,
Live you upo the border?
The lasses a’, baith far and near,
Ha’e heard of Rob the Ranter;
I’ll shake my foot wi’ right good-will,
Gif you’ll blaw up your chanter.
