| |
| WHEN my o’erlay was white as the foam o’ the lin, | |
| And siller was chinkin my pouches within, | |
| When my lambkins were bleatin on meadow and brae, | |
| As I went to my love in new cleeding sae gay, | |
| Kind was she, and my friends were free, | 5 |
| But poverty parts good company. | |
| |
| How swift pass’d the minutes and hours of delight, | |
| The piper play’d cheerly, the crusie burn’d bright, | |
| And link’d in my hand was the maiden sae dear, | |
| As she footed the floor in her holyday gear! | 10 |
| Woe is me; and can it then be, | |
| That poverty parts sic company? | |
| |
| We met at the fair, and we met at the kirk, | |
| We met i’ the sunshine, we met i’ the mirk; | |
| And the sound o’ her voice, and the blinks o’ her een, | 15 |
| The cheerin and life of my bosom hae been. | |
| Leaves frae the tree, at Martinmass flee, | |
| And poverty parts sweet company. | |
| |
| At bridal and in fair, I braced me wi’ pride, | |
| The broose I hae won, and a kiss o’ the bride; | 20 |
| And loud was the laughter good fellows among, | |
| As I utter’d my banter or chorus’d my song; | |
| Dowie and dree are jestin and glee, | |
| When poverty spoils good company. | |
| |
| Wherever I gaed kindly lasses look’d sweet, | 25 |
| And mithers and aunties were unco discreet; | |
| While kebbuck and bicker were set on the board; | |
| But now they pass by me, and never a word! | |
| Sae let it be, for the worldly and slee | |
| Wi’ poverty keep nae company. | 30 |
| |
| But the hope of my love is a cure for its smart, | |
| And the spae-wife has tauld me to keep up my heart, | |
| For, wi’ my last saxpence, her loof I hae crost, | |
| And the bliss that is fated can never be lost. | |
| Though cruelly we may ilka day see | 35 |
| How poverty parts dear company. | |
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