Gaein And Comin

Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed
    The lift was lowerin dreary,
The sun he wadna raise his heid,
    The win' blew laich and eerie.
In's pooch he had a plack or twa--
    I vow he hadna mony,
Yet Andrew like a linty sang,
    For Lizzie was sae bonny!
        O Lizzie, Lizzie, bonny lassie!
        Bonny, saucy hizzy!
        What richt had ye to luik at me
        And drive me daft and dizzy?

Whan Andrew to Strathbogie cam
    The sun was shinin rarely;
He rade a horse that pranced and sprang--
    I vow he sat him fairly!
And he had gowd to spen' and spare,
    And a hert as true as ony;
But his luik was doon, his sigh was sair,
    For Lizzie was sae bonny!
        O Lizzie, Lizzie, bonny hizzy!
        Aih, the sunlicht weary!
        Ye're straucht and rare--ye're fause though fair!--
        Hech, auld John Armstrong's deary!