He wist na where he was gaun O.
We'll hide the Cooper, &c.
They cooper'd at e'en, they cooper'd at morn,
Till our gudeman has gotten the scorn;
On ilka brow she's planted a horn,
And swears that there they sall stan' O.
We'll hide the Cooper, &c.
The Lass That Made The Bed To Me
When Januar' wind was blawing cauld,
As to the north I took my way,
The mirksome night did me enfauld,
I knew na where to lodge till day: