I'll get a cottage o' my ain, 



Some wee bit cannie, lonely bieF, 



Where thy auld heart shall rest fu' fain, 

 An' share \vi' me my humble meal. 



Thy post shall be to guard the door 

 Wi' gousty bark, whate'er betides ; 



Of cats an' hens to clear the floor, 

 An' bite the flaes that vex thy sides. 



When my last bannock's on the hearth, 

 Of that thou sanna want thy share ; 



While I hae house or hauld on earth, 

 My Hector shall hae shelter there. 



An' should grim death thy noddle save, 

 Till he has made an' end o' me ; 



Ye'll lye a wee while on the grave 

 O' ane wha aye was kind to thee. 



There's nane alive will miss me mair ; 



An' though in words thou can'st not wail, 

 On a' the claes thy master ware, 



I ken thou'lt smell an' wag thy tail. 



If e'er I'm forced wi' thee to part, 

 Which will be sair against my will ; 



I'll sometimes mind thy honest heart, 

 As lang as I can climb a hill. 



"5 



