Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Songs of Scotland > Volume 2

THE EWIE WI THE CROOKIT HORN !
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nev-er born, Here-a-b(iut,iior far a - wa'.
a - w;i .
I never needed tar nor keil,
To mark her upo' hip or heel;
Her crookit hornie did as weel,
To ken her by amang them a'.
She never threaten'd scab nor rot.
But keepit ay her ain jog-trot ;
Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
Was never sweirt to lead nor ca'.
Cauld nor hunger never dang' her,
Wind nor weet could never wrang her ;
Ance she lay an ouk- and langer
Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw.
Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,
And ate the kail for a' the tyke,
My ewie never play'd the like.
But tyc'd^ about the barn wa'.
A better, or a thriftier beast,
Nae honest man could weel ha'e wist ;
For, silly thing, she never mist
To ha'e, ilk year, a lamb or twa.
The first she had I ga'e to Jock,
To be to him a kind o' stock ;
And now the laddie has a flock
0' mair nor thirty head ava.
I lookit aye at even for her,
Lest mischanter shou'd come o'er her.
Or the foumart' might devour her.
Gin the beastie bade awa'.
My ewie wi' the crookit horn,
Weel deserved baith gerse and corn ;
Sic a ewe was never born,
Hereabout, or far awa.
' Overcame.
2 A week.
Yet, last ouk, for a' my keeping,
(Wha can speak it without greeting ?)
A villain cam', when I was sleeping,
Sta' my ewie, horn and a'.
I sought her sail- upo' the morn ;
And down aneath a buss o' thorn,
I got my ewie's crookit horn,
But my ewie was awa'.
! gin I had the loon that did it.
Sworn I have, as weel as said it.
Though a' the warld should forbid it,
I wad gi'e his neck a thra'.
1 never met wi' sic a turn
As this, sin' ever I was born ;
My ewie wi' the crookit horn.
Silly ewie, stown awa'.
! had she deid o' crook or cauld,
As ewies do when they are auld.
It wadua been, by mony fauld,
Sae sail' a heai't to nane o's a'.
For a' the claith that we ha'e worn,
Frae her and her's sae aften shorn ;
The loss o' her we cou'd ha'e borne,
Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa'.
But thus, puir thing, to lose her life,
Aneath a bluidy villain's knife ;
I'm reaUy fley't tliat our gudewife
Will never win aboon't ava.
! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn,
Call your muses up and mourn
Our ewie wi' the crookit horn,
Stown frae's, an' fell't an' a' !
Nibbled. 4 a polecat.
" The ewie wi' the crookit horn." Mr. Stenhouse says : — " This excellent song, beginning, ' were I able
to rehearse,' is another production of the Rev. Mr. John Skinner. The verses are adapted to a fine lively Highland
reel, of considerable antiquity, which received its name from a 'Ewie 'of a very different breed; namely, the
whisky-still, with its crooked, or rather spiral apparatus." Museum Illustrations, vol. iii., p. 287. Mr. Stenhouse
gives the song, " with the author's last corrections," which, of course, we have adopted. In the Note upon
" Tullochgorum," vol. i., p. 53 of this work, we stated a few particulars regarding the Rev. Mr. Skinner.