I Hae Lost My Love

I Hae lost my love, an' I dinna ken how,
I hae lost my love, an' I carena ;
For laith will I be just to lie down an' dee,
And to sit down an' greet wad be bairnly;
But a screed o' ill -nature I canna weel help,
At having been guidit unfairly ;
An' weel wad I like to gie women a skelp,
An' yerk their sweet haffits fu' yarely.

O ! plague on the limmers, sae sly and demure,
As pawkie as deils wi' their smiling ;
As fickle as winter, in sunshine and shower,
The hearts o' a' mankind beguiling ;
As sour as December, as soothing as May,
To suit their ain ends, never doubt them ;
Their ill faults I coudna tell ower in a day,
But their beauty's the warst thing about them !

Ay, that's what sets up the haill warld in a lowe ;
Make's kingdoms to rise and expire ;
Man's micht is nae mair than a flaughten o' tow,
Opposed to a bleeze o' reid fire !
Twas woman at first made creation to bend,
And of nature's prime lord made the fellow !
An' 'tis her that will bring this ill warld to an end,
An' that will be seen an' heard tell o' !