Sough o' war

38 DOCKENS AFORE HIS PEERS
Ye ’ve gran yersels an’ ken the tyauye it is to
wirk a ferm,
An’ a’ the fash we’ve had wi’ fouk gyaun aff
afore the term ;
We’ve nane to spare for sojerin’, that’s nae
oor wark ava,
We’ve rents to pey, an’ beasts to feed, an’ corn
to sell an’ saw ;
Oonless we get the seed in seen, faur will we be
for meal ?
An’ faur will London get the beef they leuk for
aye at Yeel ?
There’s men aneuch in scoters’ shops, an’ chiels
in masons’ yards,
An’ coonter-loupers, sklaters,vrichts, an’ quarry-
men, an’ cyaurds,
To fill a reg’ment in a week, withoot gyaun
vera far,
J ist shove them in ahin’ the pipes, an’ tell them
that it’s ‘ War ’ ;
For gin aul’ Scotland's at the bit, there’s nae-
thing for ’t but list.
Some mayna like it vera sair, but never heed,
insist.
Bit, feich, I’m haverin’ on like this, an’ a’
I need’s a line