ps;
for her forbears were brought in ships,
frae 'yont the tweed.
a bonier fleesh ne'er cross'd the clips
than mailie's dead.
wae worth the man wha first did shape
that vile, wancie thing—a raip!
it maks guid fellows girn an' gape,
wi' chokin dread;
an' robin's bo wave wi' crape
for mailie dead.
o, a' ye bards on bonie doon!
an' wha on ayr your ters tune!
e, join the mencholious
o' robin's reed!
his heart will never get aboon—
his mailie's dead!