9;d, and rue is in prime.
it's her your stot nor your staig i shall crave,
hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme;
“but gie me your wife, man, for her i must have,”
and the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
“o welost kindly!” the blythe carl said,
hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme;
“but if ye match her ye're waur than ye're ca'd,”
and the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
the devil has got the auld wife on his back,
hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme;
and, like a poor pedr, he's carried his pack,
Kellyburn Braes(2/5)