Auld John Nicol

I'll sing of an auld forbear of my ain,

Tweeddlum, twaddlum, twenty-one,

A man that for fun was never outdone,

And his name it was Auld John Nicol o' Whun.

Auld John Nicol he lo'ed his glass,

Tweedlum, twaddlum, twenty-one,

An' weel he likit the toast to pass,

An' it's hey for brave John Nicol o' Whun!

Auld John Nicol gaed out to fight, &c.

But a' gaed wrang that should ha'e gane right, &c.

Then auld John Nicol kneel'd down to pray,

But never a word John Nicol could say.

Auld John Nicol he lo'ed a lass,

But I darena tell you what came to pass,

For the beadle came up in an unco haste,

An' summon'd him down to speak wi' the priest.

Then auld John Nicol he chamred his hue,

For his face it grew red, an' his face it grew blue.

John Nicol gaed out, John Nicol gaed in,

An' he wish'd he had been in the well to the chin.

"Shame fa' it!" quo' John, "I often ha'e thought

Wha wins at woman will lose at nought;

But I ha'e heart to do ill to nane,

Sae I will e'en mak' the lassie my ain."

Then Auld John Nicol he got a wife,

And he never got siccan fun in his life;—

Now, John Nicol he sings frae morn till e'en,

Tweeddlum, twaddlum, twenty-one,

The happiest man that ever was seen,

An' it's hey for brave John Nicol o' Whun!