Count the Lawin
Gane is the day, and mirk’s the night,
But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’ light,
For ale and brandy’s stars and moon,
And bluid-red wine’s the risin sun.
Then guidwife, count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin,
Then guidwife, count the lawin,
And bring a coggie mair.
There’s wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple-folk maun fecht and fen’,
But here we’re a’ in ae accord,
For ilka man that’s drunk’s a lord.
My coggie is a haly pool,
That heals the wounds o’ care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,
An’ ye drink it a’ ye’ll find him out.