The Lass O’ Ecclefechan

     Tune—­“Jack o’ Latin.”

     Gat ye me, O gat ye me,
     O gat ye me wi’ naething? 
     Rock an reel, and spinning wheel,
     A mickle quarter basin: 
     Bye attour my Gutcher has
     A heich house and a laich ane,
     A’ forbye my bonie sel,
     The toss o’ Ecclefechan.

     O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,
     O haud your tongue and jauner
     I held the gate till you I met,
     Syne I began to wander: 
     I tint my whistle and my sang,
     I tint my peace and pleasure;
     But your green graff, now Lucky Lang,
     Wad airt me to my treasure.

O Let Me In Thes Ae Night

     O Lassie, are ye sleepin yet,
     Or are ye waukin, I wad wit? 
     For Love has bound me hand an’ fit,
     And I would fain be in, jo.

     Chorus—­O let me in this ae night,
     This ae, ae, ae night;
     O let me in this ae night,
     I’ll no come back again, jo!

     O hear’st thou not the wind an’ weet? 
     Nae star blinks thro’ the driving sleet;
     Tak pity on my weary feet,
     And shield me frae the rain, jo. 
     O let me in, &c.

     The bitter blast that round me blaws,
     Unheeded howls, unheeded fa’s;
     The cauldness o’ thy heart’s the cause
     Of a’ my care and pine, jo. 
     O let me in, &c.

Her Answer

     O tell na me o’ wind an’ rain,
     Upbraid na me wi’ cauld disdain,
     Gae back the gate ye cam again,
     I winna let ye in, jo.

     Chorus—­I tell you now this ae night,
     This ae, ae, ae night;
     And ance for a’ this ae night,
     I winna let ye in, jo.

     The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
     That round the pathless wand’rer pours
     Is nocht to what poor she endures,
     That’s trusted faithless man, jo. 
     I tell you now, &c.

     The sweetest flower that deck’d the mead,
     Now trodden like the vilest weed—­
     Let simple maid the lesson read
     The weird may be her ain, jo. 
     I tell you now, &c.

     The bird that charm’d his summer day,
     Is now the cruel Fowler’s prey;
     Let witless, trusting, Woman say
     How aft her fate’s the same, jo! 
     I tell you now, &c.

I’ll Aye Ca’ In By Yon Town

     Air—­“I’ll gang nae mair to yon toun.”

     Chorus—­I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town,
     And by yon garden-green again;
     I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town,
     And see my bonie Jean again.

     There’s nane sall ken, there’s nane can guess
     What brings me back the gate again,
     But she, my fairest faithfu’ lass,
     And stownlins we sall meet again. 
     I’ll aye ca’ in, &c.