ROBIN SHURE IN HAIRST

ROBIN SHURE IN HAIRST
Robert Burns

I gaed up to Dunse,
   To warp a wab o’ plaiden;
At his daddie’s yett,
   Wha met me but Robin!

Chorus:
Robin shure in hairst,
   I shure wi’ him;
Fient a heuk had I,
   Yet I stack by him.

Was na Robin bauld,
   Though I was a cotter.
Played me sic a trick.
   And me the El’ers dochter?

Robin promised me
   A’ my winter vittle;
Fient haet he had but three
   Goose-feathers and a whittle.

Footnote: A Burns song to commemorate his birthday. He wrote on 6 January 1789 to Robert Ainslie – ‘I have brushed up the following old favourite song a little, with a view to your worship.’ Brushed up with Jean Armour in mind? She was a daughter of a Kirk Elder.