And linket at it in her sark!
Now Tam, O Tam! had they been queans
A’ plump and strapping in their teens;
Their sarks, instead o’ creeshie flannen,
Been snaw-white seventeen hundred linen!
Thir breeks o’ mine, my only pair,
That ance were plush, o’ guid blue hair,
I wad hae gi’en them aff my hurdies,
For ae blink o’ the bonnie burdies!
But wither’d beldams, auld and droll,