Meg o' Marley

O Ken ye Meg o' Marley glen,
The bonny blue-e'ed dearie?
She's play'd the deil amang the men,
An' a' the land's grown eery.
She's stown the " Bangor" frae the clerk,
An' snool'd him wi' the shame o't ;
The minister's fa'n through the text,
An' Meg gets a' the blame o't.

T he ploughman ploughs without the sock ;
The gadman whistles sparely ;
The shepherd pines amang his flock,
An' turns his een to Marley ;
The tailor lad's fa'n ower the bed ;
The cobler ca's a parley ;
The weaver's neb's out through the web,
An' a' for Meg o' Marley.

What's to be done, for our gudeman
Is flyting late an' early ?
He rises but to curse an' ban,
An' sits down but to ferly.
But ne'er had love a brighter lowe
Than light his torches sparely
At the bright een an' blithesome brow
O' bonny Meg o' Marley.