| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909. | | | | A Cogie o Yill | | By Andrew Shirrefs (17621807?) |
| | | A COGIE o yill and a pickle ait-meal, | |
| And a dainty wee drappie o whiskey, | |
| Was our forefathers dose for to sweel down their brose, | |
| And keep them aye cheery and frisky. | |
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| Then hey for the whiskey, and hey for the meal, | 5 |
| And hey for the cogie, and hey for the yill; | |
| Gin ye steer a thegither theyll do unco weel | |
| To keep a chiel cheery and brisk aye. | |
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| When I see our Scots lads, wi their kilts and cockades, | |
| That sae aften hae loundered our foes, man, | 10 |
| I think to mysel on the meal and the yill, | |
And the fruits o our Scottish kail brose, man. Then hey for the whiskey, etc. | |
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| When our brave Highland blades, wi their claymores and plaids, | |
| In the field drive like sheep a our foes, man; | |
| Their courage and power spring frae this, to be sure, | 15 |
Theyre the noble effects o the brose, man. Then hey for the whiskey, etc. | |
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| But your spindle-shanked sparks, wha sae ill fill their sarks, | |
| Your pale-visaged milksops and beaux, man; | |
| I think, when I see them, twere kindness to gie them | |
A cogie o yill or o brose, man. Then hey for the whiskey, etc. | 20 |
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| What John Bull despises our better sense prizes; | |
| He denies eatin blanter ava, man; | |
| But by eatin o blanter his mares grown, Ill warrant her, | |
The manliest brute o the twa, man. Then hey for the whiskey, etc. | | | | |
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