The Book of Scottish Song/Carle, an the king come

Carle, an the king come.

[This is an old song—at least the burthen of it is as old as the time of the Commonwealth, when the restoration of king Charles II. was so ardently longed for by the loyalists. In 1822, on the occasion of king George the fourth's visit to Scotland, Sir Walter Scott wrote a long ballad, in two parts, to the tune of "Carle, an the king come."]

⁠Carle, an the king come,
⁠Carle, an the king come,
⁠Thou shalt dance and I will sing,
⁠Carle, an the king come.

An somebody were come again,
Then some body maun cross the main;
And every man shall ha'e his ain,
⁠Carle, an the king come.

I trow we swappit for the worse;
We ga'e the boot and better horse;
And that we'll tell them at the corse,
⁠Carle, an the king come.

When yellow corn grows on the rigs,
And gibbets stand to hang the Whigs,
O, then we'll a' dance Scottish jigs,
⁠Carle, an the king come.

Nae mair wi' pinch and drouth we'll dine,
As we ha'e done—a dog's propine—
But quaff our draughts o' rosy wine,
⁠Carle, an the king come.

⁠Cogie, an the king come,
⁠Cogie, an the king come,
⁠I'se be fou' and thou'se be toom.
⁠Cogie, an the king come.

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