Song—Whistle o’er the lave o’t

First when Maggie was my care,
Heav’n, i thought, was in her air,
Now we’re married-speir nae mair,
But whistle o’er the lave o’t!

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Sweet and harmless as a child—
Wiser men than me’s beguil’d;
Whistle o’er the lave o’t!

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love, and how we gree,
I care na by how few may see—
Whistle o’er the lave o’t!

Wha i wish were maggot’s meat,
Dish’d up in her winding-sheet,
I could write-but Meg maun see’t—
Whistle o’er the lave o’t!

Published in Poems and Songs of Robert Burns

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