A Book of Old Ballads — Volume 4


THE GABERLUNZIE MAN



The pauky auld Carle come ovir the lee
Wi' mony good-eens and days to mee,
Saying, Good wife, for zour courtesie,
Will ze lodge a silly poor man?
The night was cauld, the carle was wat,
And down azont the ingle he sat;
My dochtors shoulders he gan to clap,
And cadgily ranted and sang.

O wow! quo he, were I as free,
As first when I saw this countrie,
How blyth and merry wad I bee!
And I wad nevir think lang.
He grew canty, and she grew fain;
But little did her auld minny ken
What thir slee twa togither were say'n,
When wooing they were sa thrang.

And O! quo he, ann ze were as black,
As evir the crown of your dadyes hat,
Tis I wad lay thee by my backe,
And awa wi' me thou sould gang.
And O! quoth she, ann I were as white,
As evir the snaw lay on the dike,
Ild dead me braw, and lady-like,
And awa with thee Ild gang.

Between them twa was made a plot;
They raise a wee before the cock,
And wyliely they shot the lock,
And fast to the bent are they gane.
Up the morn the auld wife raise,
And at her leisure put on her claiths,
Syne to the servants bed she gaes
To speir for the silly poor man.

She gaed to the bed, whair the beggar lay,
The strae was cauld, he was away,
She clapt her hands, cryd, Dulefu' day!
For some of our geir will be gane.
Some ran to coffer, and some to kist,
But nought was stown that could be mist.
She dancid her lane, cryd, Praise be blest,
I have lodgd a leal poor man.

Since naithings awa, as we can learn,
The kirns to kirn, and milk to earn,
Gae butt the house, lass, and waken my bairn,
And bid her come quickly ben.
The servant gaed where the dochter lay,
The sheets was cauld, she was away,
And fast to her goodwife can say,
Shes aff with the gaberlunzie-man.

O fy gar ride, and fy gar rin,
And haste ze, find these traitors agen;
For shees be burnt, and hees be slein,
The wearyfou gaberlunzie-man.
Some rade upo horse, some ran a fit
The wife was wood, and out o' her wit;
She could na gang, nor yet could sit,
But ay did curse and did ban.

Mean time far hind out owre the lee,
For snug in a glen, where nane could see,
The twa, with kindlie sport and glee
Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
The priving was gude, it pleas'd them baith,
To lo'e her for ay, he gae her his aith.
Quo she, to leave thee, I will laith,
My winsome gaberlunzie-man.

O kend my minny I were wi' zou,
Illfardly wad she crook her mou,
Sic a poor man sheld nevir trow,
Aftir the gaberlunzie-mon.
My dear, quo he, zee're zet owre zonge;
And hae na learnt the beggars tonge,
To follow me frae toun to toun,
And carrie the gaberlunzie on.

Wi' kauk and keel, Ill win zour bread,
And spindles and whorles for them wha need,
Whilk is a gentil trade indeed
The gaberlunzie to carrie--o.
Ill bow my leg and crook my knee,
And draw a black clout owre my ee,
A criple or blind they will cau me:
While we sail sing and be merrie--o.







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