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THE HEIR OF LINNE. |
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He wou'dna stand on the cauld casey, Some an' wad taen him in.
" Sing ower again that sang, nourice,
The sang ye sang just noo ;" " I never sang a sang i' my life, w
But I wad sing ower to you."
O see for he gangs, an' see for he stands,
The wearie heir o' Linne; 0 see for he stands on the canld casey,
An' nae an' bids him come in. 20
But if he had been his father's heir,
Or yet the heir 0' Linne, He wadna stand on the cauld casye,
Some ane wad taen him in.
When his father's lands a sellin' were, 25
His claise lay weel in fauld, But now he wanders on the shore,
Baith hungry, weet, and cauld.
As Willie he gaed down the toun,
The gentlemen were drinkin'; so
Some bade gie Willie a glass, a glass,
And some bade him gae nane; Some bade gie Willie a glass, a glass,
The weary heir o' Linne. |
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