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!