But bless me wi' your heav'n o' charms,
An' while I kittle hair on thairms, [tickle, catgut]
Hunger, cauld, and a' sic harms, [such]
May whistle owre the lave o't.
Recitativo
Her charms had struck a sturdy caird, [tinker]
As well as poor gut-scraper;
He taks the fiddler by the beard,
An' draws a roosty rapier-- [rusty]
He swoor, by a' was swearing worth,
To spit him like a pliver, [plover]
Unless he would from that time forth
Relinquish her for ever.
Wi' ghastly e'e, poor tweedle-dee
Upon his hunkers bended, [hams]
An' pray'd for grace wi' ruefu' face,
An' sae the quarrel ended.
But tho' his little heart did grieve
When round the tinkler prest her,
He feign'd to snirtle in his sleeve, [snigger]
When thus the caird address'd her:--
Air
TUNE: Clout the Cauldron
My bonnie lass, I work in brass,
A tinkler is my station;
I've travell'd round all Christian ground
In this my occupation;
I've ta'en the gold, I've been enroll'd
In many a noble squadron;
But vain they search'd when off I march'd
To go an' clout the cauldron. [patch]
Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp,
Wi' a' his noise an' caperin';
An' tak a share wi' those that bear
The budget and the apron; [tool-bag]
And, by that stoup, my faith an' houp! [hope]
And by that dear Kilbaigie, [a kind of whisky]
If e'er ye want, or meet wi' scant, [dearth]
May I ne'er weet my craigie.
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