Count The Lawin

Gane is the day, and mirk’s the night, But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’ light, For ale and brandy’s stars and moon, And bluid-red wine’s the risin sun.

Then guidwife, count the lawin, The lawin, the lawin, Then guidwife, count the lawin, And bring a coggie mair.

There’s wealth and ease for gentlemen, And semple-folk maun fecht and fen’, But here we’re a’ in ae accord, For ilka man that’s drunk’s a lord.

My coggie is a haly pool, That heals the wounds o’ care and dool; And pleasure is a wanton trout, An’ ye drink it a’ ye’ll find him out.