3
⟨A⟩y, quo Watty, things are alter’t,
But it’s past redemption now;
⟨D⟩—d! I wish I had been halter’d,
When I married Maggy Howe!
⟨I’⟩ve been poor, and vexd, and raggy,
Try’d wi’ troubles no that sma’
⟨T⟩hem I bore—but marrying Maggy
Laid the cap stane o’ them a’.
⟨N⟩ight and day she’s ever yelpin,
Wi’ the weans she ne’er can gree;
⟨W⟩hen she’s tir’d wi perfect skelpin,
Then she flies like fire on me
⟨S⟩ee ye, Mungo! when she’d clash on,
Wi’ her everlasting clack,
⟨W⟩hiles I’ve had my nieve, in passion
Lifted up to break her back!
⟨O⟩, for gudesake, keep frae cuffets
Mungo shook his head, and said,
⟨W⟩eel I ken what sort o’ life it’s;
Ken ye, Watty, how I did?
⟨A⟩fter Bess and I were kippl’t,
Soon she grew like ony ⟨b⟩ear,
⟨B⟩rake my shins, and when I tippl’t,
She harl’t out my very hair.
⟨F⟩or a wee I quietly knuckel’t,
But whan naething would prevail,
⟨U⟩p my claes and cash I buckl’t
Bess! for ever fare ye weel.
⟨T⟩hen her din grew less and less aye,
