Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The Wee, Wee German Lairdie

For other versions of this work, see The Wee Wee German Lairdie.
​
The Wee, Wee German Lairdie.
Wha the deil hae we gotten for a king,
 But a wee, wee German lairdie?
And, when we gaed to bring him hame,
 He was delving in his kail-yardie:
Sheughing kail, and laying leeks,
But the hose, and but the breeks;
And up his beggar duds he cleeks;
 This wee, wee German lairdie.

And he's clapt down in our gudeman's chair,
 The wee, wee German lairdie;
And he's brought fouth o' foreign leeks,
 And dibbled them in his yardie.
He's pu'd the rose o' English loons,
And broken the harp o' Irish clowns:
But our thistle-tap will jag his thumbs,
 This wee, wee German lairdie.

Come up amang our Highland hills,
 Thou wee, wee German lairdie;
And see the Stuarts' lang kail thrive,
 We dibbled in our yardie;
 ​And if a stock ye dare to pu',
 Or baud the yoking o' a plough,
We'll break your sceptre o'er your mou',
 Thou wee bit German lairdie.

Our hills are steep, our glens are deep,
 Nae fitting for a yardie;
And our Norland thistles winna pu',
 Thou wee bit German lairdie:
And we've the trenching blades o' weir,
 Wad prune ye o' your German gear;
We'll pass ye 'neath the claymore's shear,
 Thou feckless German lairdie.

Auld Scotland, thou'rt ower cauld a hole
 For nursin' siccan vermin;
But the very dongs o' England's court
 They bark and howl in German.
Then keep thy dibble in thy ain hand,
Thy spade but and thy yardie;
For wha the deil hae we gotten for a king
 But a wee, wee German lairdie?

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.