Tune—“Whare’ll our guidman lie.”
O wha my babie-clouts will buy?
O wha will tent me when I cry?
Wha will kiss me where I lie?
The rantin’ dog, the daddie o’t.
[Footnote 9: Mr. Farquhar Gray.—R.B.]
[Footnote 10: Auchinskieth.—R.B.]
[Footnote 11: Caprington.—R.B.]
[Footnote 12: Colonel Fullerton.—R.B.]
[Footnote 13: Dr. Fullerton.—R.B.]
[Footnote 14: Orangefield.—R.B.]
O wha will own he did the faut?
O wha will buy the groanin maut?
O wha will tell me how to ca’t?
The rantin’ dog, the daddie o’t.
When I mount the creepie-chair,
Wha will sit beside me there?
Gie me Rob, I’ll seek nae mair,
The rantin’ dog, the daddie o’t.
Wha will crack to me my lane?
Wha will mak me fidgin’ fain?
Wha will kiss me o’er again?
The rantin’ dog, the daddie o’t.