Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Whistle-Binkie, or, The piper of the party

78
Tat's preeding sic a muckle steer,
An' like to raise ta storm, man ;
For noo ta peoples meet in troves,
On both sides o' ta Tweed, man,
An' spoket speechums loud an' lang,
An' very pauld inteed, man.
'Teed, Tonald, lad, she'll no pe ken,
For she's nae politish, man,
But for their speechums loud an' lang,
She wadna gie tat sneesh, man ;
For gin she'll thocht ta thing was richt.
She wad her beetock traw, man,
An' feught like tamn— till ance ta Bill
Was made coot Cospel law, man.
Hoot toot, man, Tougall ! tat micht do
When Shordie Twa did ring, man,
An' her fore-faiters trew ta tirk,
To mak teir Chairlie king, man ;
But tirks, an' pistols, an' claymores,
Pe no for me nor you, man ;
Tey'll a' pe out o' fashions gane
Since pluity Waterloo, man.
Last nicht she'll went to pay her rent,
Ta laird gie her ta tram, man,
An' tell her tat this Bill Reform
Was shust a nonsense tamn, man !
Pe no for honest man's, she'll say,
Pe meddle 'ffairs o' State, man,
But leave those matters to him's Crace,
Him's Clory, an' ta great man.
She'll talk 'pout Revolations, too,
Pe pad an' wicked thing, man,
Wad teuk awa ta 'stinctions a',
Frae peggar down to king, man ;
Nae doubts, nae doubts, her nainsel' said,
But yet tere's something worse, man,