Transcription
Its a fine thing an Ingin I'M OFF TO KINDONALD. It was not my Fortune to get her, ILKA BLADE o' GRASS KEPS ITS AIN DRAP O' DEW. I'M OFF TO KINDONALD. I'm off to Kindonald, my fortune to try,
I'm off by the first train', so kind friends good-bye,
To dig the precious metal and send it to Glengey,
Oh, the digging of the golden stones a jolly life will be. CHORUS? I'll jog along the roads with my pick and my spade,
A nice little tin and' pair of brogues newly made,
A gallon of the pure to cheer me on the way,
And I'm off to Kindonald at the dawning of the day. When I come back with lots of gold,
I'll buy M'Dougall and Sandy Grant and Co.,
I'll buy the Union Street, becides the music hall,
I'll keep a soup kitchen and give tickets to them all. I'll marry a little wife, I hope she will be here.
For all the ladies' feelings I'm getting quite in fear;
So iadies don't be angry, for some of you must want,
For certainly you cannot all be Mrs Sandy Grant. It was not my Fortune to get her. A courted a lassie for many a long day,
And hated all persons that against her did say ;
Now she has rewared me by saying "nay,"
For she's going to be wed to another. The clerk of the session he gave a loud cry,
If any have objections I pray bring them nigh,
Thinks I to mysel' objections have I,
But it wasna my will to affront her. When I saw my bonnie love to the church go,
With bridegroom and maidens she made a fine show,
While I followed after with a heart full of woe,
To see how my false love was guarded. When I saw my bonnie love at the kirk-stile,
I tramped on her gowntail but did'na it file,
She turned round upon me and gave a slight smile,
Saying, young man you've troubled for nothing. When I saw my bonnie love in the church stand,
The ring on her finger, the glove in her hand,
Thinks I to mysel beside her I should stand,
But it was not my fortune to get her! When I saw my bonnie love sit down to dine,
I took up the glass and I poured out the wine,
Drink health to the bonnie bride that should have been mine,
But it was not my fortune to get her. When I saw my bonnie love in her bed laid,
'Mang white sheets and blankets sae neatly downspread,
Wished that I was the young man 'twas to lie bv her side,
But it was not my fortune to get her. O, bridegroom, O bridegroom! I'll tell you a guise,
I've lie'n wi' your bonnie bride ay oftener than thrice,
And she daurna deny it on the bed where she lies,
So she's 'but my old shoes when you've got her. But now she if off and away let her go,
I'll never give over to sorrow and woe,
But I'll cheer up my heart and aroun' I'll go,
And hope I will soon find another. Ilka Blade o' Grass Keps its ain Drap o' Dew Confide ye aye in Providence, for Providence is kind,
And bear ye a' life's changes wi' a calm and tranquil mind;
Tho' pressed' and hemmed on. every side, hae faith an ye'll
win through,
For ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
For ilka, blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
Gin reft frae friends, or crossed in love, as whiles nae doubt
ye've been,
Grief lies deep hidden in your heart, or tears flow frae your een
Believe it for the best, an' trow there-'s gude in store for you,
For ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew. In lang, laog days o' simmer, when the clear and cloudl'ess sky
Refuses ae wee drap o' rain to Nature parch'd an' dry,
The genial night wi' balmy breath gars verdure spring anew,
An' ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew. So lest 'mid fortune's sunshine we should feel owre proud
an' hie,
An' in our pride forget to wipe the tear from poortith's e'e;
Some wee dark cluds o'sorrow come we ken na whence or how
But ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew. It's a Fine Thing an Ingin. Words by Thomas Johnston, sung, by
J. C. M'Donald. Some boast the fruits o' sunny Spain,
And France wi' many a canty strain,
Their praises ower and ower again,
They never tire o' singing.
Nae doot wi' sunny skies they're blest.,
Wi' lemons, grapes, and a' the rest,
But o' a' the fruit that I like best,
'Oh' commend tae me an ingin. CHORUS? It's a fine thing an ingin,
It's a gran' thing an ingin;
O' a' the fruit that's in the warl',
There's naething beats an ingin. There's an auld wife sitting here the night,
She's put twelve cups o' tea clean oot o' sight,
And she's filling her bag wi' a' her might,
Down by her side it's hinging.
There's ae thing wanted here, says she,
I often tak' it tae my tea,
It's the only thing that agrees wi' me,
It's a fine thing an ingin. I married a lass, but when she fan'
That I was a masonic man
It was then the bowls and plates began,
Atboot the kitchen spinning.
Says she, "This life I canna bear,
Tim awful secret I maun hear,
So oot wi' it, Jock." Says I, "My dear,
It's a fine thing an ingin." When married first, we lived our lane,
Our married life was unco tame,
We sairly missed a wee bit wean,
Man we made a bad beginning.
The ither day my wife had twine;
If ye want tae ken the oots and ins,
It's a gran' thing an ingin'. Copies can always be had at the Poet's Box, Overgate, Dundee.
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