with critical observations and biographical notices, by Robert Burns

177
1*11 gar4ny ain Tammie gae down to the how.
An' cut me a rock of a widdershines grow,
Of good rantry-tree for to carry my tow.
An' a spindle of the same for the twining o't.
For now when I mind me, I met Maggy Grim,
This morning just at the beginning o't,
She was never ca'd chancy, but canny an' slim,
An' sae it has fair'd of my spinning o't
But an' my new rock were anes cutted an' dry,
I'll a' Maggie's can an' her cantraps defy,
An' but onie sussie the spinning I'll try.
An' ye's a' hear o' the beginning o't.
Quo' Tibby, her dather, tak tent fat ye say,
The never a ragg we'll be seeking o't.
Gin ye anes begin, ye'll tarveal's night an' day,
Sae it's vain ony mair to be speaking o't
Since lambas I'm now gaing thirty an' twa,
An' never a dud sark had I yet gryt or sma',
An' what war am I ? I'm as warm an' as bra',
As thrummy tail'd Meg that's a spinner o't.
To labor the lint-land, an' then buy the seed,
An' then to yoke me to the harrowing o't,
An' syn loll amon't an' pike out ilka weed.
Like swine in a sty at the farrowing o't
VOL. I. N