The Book of Scottish Song/This is no my ain house

This is no my ain house.

[The following is a Jacobite version of "This is no my ain house." Whether or not it is older than Ramsay's we cannot say.]

⁠O, this is no my ain house,
⁠I ken by the biggin' o't;
⁠For bow-kail thrave at my door cheek,
⁠And thristles on the riggin' o't.

A carle came wi' lack o' grace,
Wi' unco gear and unco face;
And sin' he claim'd my daddie's place
⁠I downa bide the triggin' o't.
⁠O, this is no my ain house, &c.

Wi' routh o' kin, and routh o' reek,
My daddie's door it wadna steek;
But bread and cheese were his door cheek,
⁠And girdle-cakes the riggin' o't.
⁠O, this is no my ain house, &c.

My daddie bigg'd his housie weel,
By dint o' head, and dint o' heel,
By dint o' arm, and dint o' steel,
⁠And muckle weary priggin' o't.
⁠O, this is no my ain house, &c.

Then was it dink, or was it douce,
For ony cringing foreign goose,
To claught my daddie's wee bit house,
⁠And spoil the hamely triggin' o't?
⁠O, this is no my ain house, &c.

Say, was it foul, or was it fair,
To come a hunder mile and mair,
For to ding out my daddie's heir,
⁠And dash him wi' the wiggin' o't?
⁠O, this is no my ain house, &c.

---