HEATHER JOCK. 



Jock was nae religious youth, 

 For at the priest he thraw'd his mouth ; 

 He wadna say a grace nor pray, 

 But play'd his pipes on Sabbath day. 

 Robb'd the kirk o' bean and book, 

 Everything would lift he took; 

 He didna leave the weather-cock, 

 Sic a thief was Heather Jock. 



Nane wi' Jock could draw a tricker, 

 'Mang the muirfowl he was sicker; 

 He watch'd the wild ducks at the springs. 

 And hang'd the hares in hempen strings ; 

 Blaz'd the burns and spear'd the fish, 

 Jock had mony a dainty dish ; 

 The best o' moorfowl and blackcock, 

 Aye grac'd the board of Heather Jock. 



Nane wi' Jock had ony say, 

 At the neive or cudgel play ; 

 Jock for bolt nor bar ne'er staid, 

 Till ance the jail his courage laid ; 

 Then the judge, without delay, 

 Sent him aff to Botany Bay, 

 And bade him mind the laws he broke, 

 And never mair play Heather Jock. 



Chorus. 



Heather Jock's noo awa', 

 Heather Jock's noo awa', 

 The muircock noo may crousely craw, 

 Since Heather Jock's noo awa'. 

 177 



