Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/423

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THE WEE WEE GERMAN LAIRDIE.

405

He turned him richt and round about
Upon the Irish shore,
And ga'e his bridle-reins a shake,
With, Adieu for evermore, my love,
With, Adieu for evermore.

The soldier frae the war returns,
The sailor frae the main;
But I hae parted frae my love,
Never to meet again, my love,
Never to meet again.

When day is gane, and nicht is come,
And a' folk bound to sleep,
I think on him that's far awa'
The lee-lang night, and weep, my dear,
The lee-lang night, and weep.

The Wee, Wee German Lairdie.

Wha the deil hae we gotten for a king,
But a wee, wee German lairdie?
And, when we gaed to bring him hame,
He was delving in his kail-yardie:
Sheughing kail, and laying leeks,
But the hose, and but the breeks;
And up his beggar duds he cleeks;
This wee, wee German lairdie.

And he's clapt down in our gudeman's chair,
The wee, wee German lairdie;
And he's brought fouth o' foreign leeks,
And dibbled them in his yardie.
He's pu'd the rose o' English loons,
And broken the harp o' Irish clowns:
But our thistle-tap will jag his thumbs,
This wee, wee German lairdie.

Come up amang our Highland hills,
Thou wee, wee German lairdie;
And see the Stuarts' lang kail thrive,
We dibbled in our yardie;