And were ye at Duntocher burn, <br />And did ye see them a', man? <br />And how's my wifie and the bairns? <br />I hae been lang awa', man. <br />That cotton wark's a weary trade, <br />It does na' suit ava, man; <br />Wi' lanely house, and lanely bed, <br />My comforts are but sma', man. <br /> <br />And how's wee Sandy, Pate, and Tam? <br />Sit down and tak' your blew, man: <br />Fey, lassie, rin, fetch in a dram, <br />To treat my friend, John Lamon'. <br />For ilka plack you've gi'en to mine, <br />Your callans shall get twa, man; <br />O were my heels as licht's my heart, <br />I soon would see them a', man. <br /> <br />My blessing on her kindly heart, <br />She likes to see me brew, man; <br />She's darn'd my hose, and bleach'd my sarks <br />As white's the driven snaw, man. <br />And ere the winds o' Martinmas <br />Sough through the scroggie shaw, man, <br />I'll lift my weel-hain'd penny fee, <br />And gang and see them a', man.<br /><br />Robert Tannahill<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-were-ye-at-duntocher-burn/
