Robert Burns, 1789
First when Maggie was my care,|
Heav'n, I thought, was in her air,
Now we're married - speir nae mair,
But whistle o'er the lave o't!
2. Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
3. How we live, my Meg and me,|
How we love, and how we gree,
I care na by how few may see-
Whistle o'er the lave o't!
4. Wha I wish were maggot's meat,
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