Gaein And Comin

Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win' blew laich and eerie. In's pooch he had a plack or twa- I vow he hadna mony, Yet Andrew like a linty sang, For Lizzie was sae bonny! O Lizzie, Lizzie, bonny lassie! Bonny, saucy hizzy! What richt had ye to luik at me And drive me daft and dizzy? Whan Andrew to Strathbogie cam The sun was shinin rarely; He rade a horse that pranced and sprang- I vow he sat him fairly! And he had gowd to spen' and spare, And a hert as true as ony; But his luik was doon, his sigh was sair, For Lizzie was sae bonny! O Lizzie, Lizzie, bonny hizzy! Aih, the sunlicht weary! Ye're straucht and rare-ye're fause though fair!- Hech, auld John Armstrong's deary!