Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

A KAMBLE THROUGH PAISLEY.
To Paisley town they ha'e three bells,
That sound out o'er a' Campsie fells,
The hours to a' the country tells,
Down Cart up Clyde,
Twenty long miles ye'll hear their knells,
The holms so wide.
From Neilston to Benlomont loch.
From Milliken to Bothwell trough,
From Hamilton to old Dumdroch.
By the kirk stiles,
From Houston tho' the road be rough
Then count the miles.
By Him that's good, that did make me,
By conscience, lads, look if I lie,
Be jvist and count your pedigree,
If blacks or rogues.
Be silent, coofs, and let me be,
Don't wear your brogs,
BeVha ye will, a boar or sow,
Be't stirk, or stot, calf, bull, or cow,
Be that between your nose and mow,
'Tis scarce twa inch,
By jing, that road I will rin thro'.
And never flinch.
To Paisley lads I'll tell my drolls,
To planets that fly round the poles.
To dull sumphs who are lazy noils.
Yet wretched cheats,
To clever sailors wi' your yoles,
I'll name your streets.