The Weary Pund O Tow

There sat a bottle in the bole, Beyond the ingle low, An' ay she took the tither souk To drouk the stourie tow. 4The weary pund, &c.

Quoth 1, " For shame ye dirty dame, Gae spin your tap o' tow; She took the rock, and wi' a knock She brake it o'er my pow. 4The weary pund, &c.

At last her feet, I sang to see't, Gaed foremost oe'r a knowe, And e'er I'll wed anither jade, I'll wallop in a tow. 4The weary pund, &c.