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There's Nae Luck About the House 
There's Nae Luck About the House 
cho: There's nae luck about the house There's nae luck at a'; There's little pleasure in the house When my gude-man's awa'. 
And are ye sure the news is true? And are ye sure he's weel? Is this a time to think o' wark Ye gauds fling by your wheel!
 Is this a time to think o' wark When Collin's at the door? Rax me my cloak I'll to the quay And see him come ashore. 
Rise up and mak a clean fireside Put on the muckle pot; Gie little Kate her cotton gown And Jock his Sunday coat.
 And make their shoon as black as slaes Their stockings white as snaw; It's a' to pleasure our gudeman He likes to see them braw. 
There are twa hens into the crib Have fed this month and mair, Make haste and thraw their necks about That Collin weel may fare.
 Bring down to me my bigonet My bishop-satin gown, And then gae tell the Bailie's wife That Collin's come to town. 
Sae sweet his voice, sae smooth his tongue His breath's like caller air; His very tread has music in't As he comes up the stair.
 And will I see his face again And will I hear him speak? I'm downright dizzy wi' the joy In troth I'm like to greet. 
From Minstrelsy of Scotland, Moffatt. Note: words first published in 1776, as the Mariner's Wife. There's a Jacobite version of this (help, anyone?) with the chorus ending "Since Charlie's gone awa'" RG