O I've walked o'er yon countries baith early and late <br />Among Airlin's braw lasses I've had mony a lang seat. <br />Comin' hame in the mornins, fin I should have been at ease <br />Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin's fine braes. <br /> <br />O the first thing I did, fin I gaed hame tae yon toon <br />Wis to corn my horses, and rub them weel doon. <br />Then aff tae the bothy and tak aff my claes, <br />And pull on the rovers o' Airlin's fine braes. <br /> <br />Noo the haill lang days I gaed at the yoke <br />My mind it was turnin' ow'r some mysterious joke. <br />Knockin' doon people's haystacks, fin I should have been at ease <br />Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin's fine braes. <br /> <br />O it's mony's the nicht I've sat by yon fire, <br />Sometimes in the barn, sometimes in the byre. <br />Sittin' the haill nicht lang, fin I should have been at ease <br />Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin's fine braes. <br /> <br />And when by their windows I softly did kneel <br />And when they did hear me, they sprung to their heel. <br />Comin' doon the stairs half naked, nae pittin on their claes <br />Sayin', here's wer braw plooboy o' Airlin's fine braes. <br /> <br />Now come a' ye single fellows, take a warnin from me <br />Keep clear o' those women faure'er they may be, <br />For they will entice you by puttin' on braw claes <br />And send you a rover in Airlin's fine braes.<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/airlin-s-fine-braes/
