And now a widow I must mourn
The pleasures that will ne'er return;
No comfort but a hearty can,
When I think on John Highlandman.
Recitativo
A pigmy scraper wi' his fiddle,
Wha used to trysts an' fairs to driddle, [markets, toddle]
Her strappin' limb an' gawsie middle [buxom]
(He reach'd nae higher)
Had holed his heartie like a riddle,
And blawn't on fire. [blown it]
Wi' hand on hainch, and upward e'e, [hip]
He crooned his gamut, one, two, three,
Then, in an _Ario's_ key,
The wee Apollo
Set aff, wi' _allegretto_ glee,
His _gig_ solo.
Air
TUNE: Whistle Owre the Lave O't
Let me tyke up to dight that tear, [reach, wipe]
And go wi' me an' be my dear,
And then your every care an' fear
May whistle owre the lave o't. [rest]
CHORUS
I am a fiddler to my trade,
An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd,
The sweetest still to wife or maid,
Was _Whistle Owre the Lave o't_.
At kirns and weddings we'se be there, [harvest-homes, we shall]
And oh! sae nicely's we will fare;
We'll house about, till Daddie Care
Sing _Whistle Owre the Lave o't_.
Sae merrily the banes we'll pyke, [pick]
An' sun oursels about the dyke, [wall]
An' at our leisure, when ye like,
We'll--whistle owre the lave o't.
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