King Willie

O, Willie was a wanton wag,
The blithest lad that e'er I saw ;
He 'mang the lasses bure the brag,
An' carried aye the gree awa',
An' was nae Willie weel worth goud ?

When seas did rowe an' winds did blaw,
An' battle's deadly stoure was blent,
He fought the foremost o' them a'.

Wha has nae heard o' Willie's fame,
The rose o' Britain's topmast bough,
Wha never stain 'd his gallant name,
Nor turn'd his back on friend or foe.
An' he could tak a rantin' glass,
An' he could chant a cheery strain,
An' he could kiss a bonny lass,
An' aye be welcome back again.

Though now he wears the British crown —
For whilk he never cared a flee —
Yet still the downright honest tar,
The same kind-hearted chield is he.
An' every night I fill my glass —
An' fill it reaming to the brim,
An' drink it in a glowing health
To Adie Laidlaw' an' to him.

I've ae advice to gie my King,
An' that I'll gie wi' right good-will,
Stick by the auld friends o' the crown,
Wha bore it up through good an' ill :
For new-made friends, an' new-made laws,
They suit nae honest hearts ava ;
An' Royal Willie's worth I'll sing
As lang as I hae breath to draw.