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Whistle O'er the Lave O't 
Whistle O'er the Lave O't (Robert Burns) 
First when Maggie was my care, Heav'n, I thought, was in her air; Now we're married, speir nae mair,
 But - whistle o'er the lave o't! 
Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Sweet and harmless as a child: Wiser men than me's beguil'd
Whistle o'er the lave o't! 
How we live, my Meg and me, How we love, and how we gree, I care na by how few may see
Whistle o'er the lave o't! 
Wha I wish were maggot's meat, Dish'd up in her winding-sheet, I could write (but Meg may see't)
 Whistle o'er the lave o't! 
tune: Whistle o'er the lave o't (235) ARB