The Weary Pund O' Tow.

Tune - "The weary Pund o' Tow."


I.

    The weary pund, the weary pund,
        The weary pund o' tow:
    I think my wife will end her life
        Before she spin her tow.
    I bought my wife a stane o' lint
        As gude as e'er did grow;
    And a' that she has made o' that,
        Is ae poor pund o' tow.

II.

    There sat a bottle in a bole,
        Beyont the ingle low,
    And ay she took the tither souk,
        To drouk the stowrie tow.

III.

    Quoth I, for shame, ye dirty dame,
        Gae spin your tap o' tow!
    She took the rock, and wi' a knock
        She brak it o'er my pow.

IV.

    At last her feet--I sang to see't,
        Gaed foremost o'er the knowe;
    And or I wad anither jad,
        I'll wallop in a tow.
                The weary pund, the weary pund,
                    The weary pund o' tow!
                I think my wife will end her life
                    Before she spin her tow.