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Robert Burns - Airlin`s Fine Braes
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O I`ve walked o`er yon countries baith early and late
Among Airlin`s braw lasses I`ve had mony a lang seat.
Comin` hame in the mornins, fin I should have been at ease
Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin`s fine braes.

O the first thing I did, fin I gaed hame tae yon toon
Wis to corn my horses, and rub them weel doon.
Then aff tae the bothy and tak aff my claes,
And pull on the rovers o` Airlin`s fine braes.

Noo the haill lang days I gaed at the yoke
My mind it was turnin` ow`r some mysterious joke.
Knockin` doon people`s haystacks, fin I should have been at ease
Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin`s fine braes.

O it`s mony`s the nicht I`ve sat by yon fire,
Sometimes in the barn, sometimes in the byre.
Sittin` the haill nicht lang, fin I should have been at ease
Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin`s fine braes.

And when by their windows I softly did kneel
And when they did hear me, they sprung to their heel.
Comin` doon the stairs half naked, nae pittin on their claes
Sayin`, here`s wer braw plooboy o` Airlin`s fine braes.

Now come a` ye single fellows, take a warnin from me
Keep clear o` those women faure`er they may be,
For they will entice you by puttin` on braw claes
And send you a rover in Airlin`s fine braes.
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