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"Ay! ye've aft said that, an' broken"A' your vows ten times a-week."No, no, Meg! see there's a token,"Glitterin' on my bonnet cheek.
"Owre the seas I march this mornin',"Listet, testet, sworn an' a',"Forc'd by your confounded girnin';"Fareweel, Meg! for I'm awa'."
Then poor Maggy's tears and clamourGush't afresh, an' louder grew,While the weans, wi' mournfu' yaummer,Round their sabbin' mother flew.
"Thro' the yirth I'll wauner wi' you—"Stay, O Watty, stay at hame;"Here, upo' my knees, I'll gi'e you"Ony vow ye like to name.
"See your poor young lammies pleadin',"Will ye gang and break my heart?"No a house to put our head in!"No a frien' to tak' our part."
Ilka word cam' like a bullet;Watty's heart begude to shak';On a kist he laid his wallet,Dightet baith his een, an' spak'.
"If, ance mair, I cou'd by writin',"Lea' the sogers an' stay still,"Wad you swear to drap your flytin'?""Yes, O Watty! yes, I will."
"Then," quo' Watty, "mind, be honest:"Aye to keep your temper strive;
