Ye may lay yer plans aforehaun'.

Days afore it gin ye care,

Ha'e the cheenie nately packit,

An' the wa's a' strippit bare;

The chair-bottoms tied thegither,

An' the extra bed taen doon;

But ye're no' much faurer forrit

When the flittin' day comes roun'.

 

It's the larry's late in comin';

An' the chairs a' biggit oot

On the plainstanes, wi' the kettles

An' the fire-arms roun' aboot;

An' the room-things in a bourock

By a caff-bed hidden fine

Frae the neibours at the windies

Teetin' by the hauf-drawn blin'.

 

Syne a drizzle starts at loadin'

An' things need anither dicht,

While the ban-boxes an' blankets

Are quick hurried oot o' sicht;

An' the larry's no richt raipit

When Tam tim'les in the glaur

An' him to haund the lookin'-glass -

Could it ever happen waur ?

 

Deed a flittin's unco tryin'.

Efter a' is said an' dune;

But it's waur whan ane's oot-gaein'

As the ither's comin' in.

For they're sure to cast oot someway

Argie-bargie syne an' flyte

While the jostlin' an' the wanglin'

Wad near drive a body gyte.

 

Well, I hivna flittit aften

Mebbe thrice in thretty year;

But guid health an' fortune fa'ur me.

Neer again I'll seek to steer;

For the thocht o' bygone trauchle

As a nichtmare to me yet

An' gin I can get my way o't.

I' their lums, it's ME they'll flit.