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Muirland Meg (Robert Burns, in Merry Muses of Caledonia) Amang our young lassies there's Muirlan' Meg, She'll beg or she'll work, and she'll play or she'll beg; At thretteen her maidenhead flew to the gate, And the door o' her cage stands open yet. And for a sheep-cloot she'll do't, she'll do't, And for a sheep-cloot, &c. And for a toop-horn, she'll do't to morn, And merrily turn and do't and do't. Her kittle black een they wad thirl ye thro', Her rose-bud lips cry kiss me just now; The curls and links o' her bonny black hair, Wad put you in mind, that the lassie has mair. And for, &c. An armfu' o' love is her bosom sae plump; A span o' delight is her middle sae jimp; A taper white leg, and a thumpin thie, And a fiddle near by, can ye play a wee? And for, &c. Love's her delight, and kissing's her treasure, She'll stick at nae price, an ye gie her good measure; As lang's a sheep-fit an as girt's a goose egg. O that's the measure o' Muirlan' Meg. And for, &c. Sung by Oscar Brand and by Ewan MacColl AJS oct99
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!