| |
| YE wha are fain to hae your name | |
| Wrote in the bonny book of fame, | |
| Let merit nae pretension claim | |
| To laurel’d wreath, | |
| But hap ye weel, baith back and wame, | 5 |
| In gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
| He that some ells o’ this may fa’, | |
| An’ slae black hat on pow like snaw, | |
| Bids bauld to bear the gree awa’, | |
| Wi’ a’ this graith, | 10 |
| Whan bienly clad wi’ shell fu’ braw | |
| O’ gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
| Waesuck for him wha has nae fek o’t! | |
| For he’s a gowk they’re sure to geck at. | |
| A chield that ne’er will be respekit | 15 |
| While he draws breath, | |
| Till his four quarters are bedeckit | |
| Wi’ gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
| On Sabbath-days the barber spark, | |
| Whan he has done wi’ scrapin wark | 20 |
| Wi’ siller broachie in his sark, | |
| Gangs trigly, faith! | |
| Or to the Meadows or the Park, | |
| In gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
| Weel might ye trow, to see them there, | 25 |
| That they to shave your haffits bare, | |
| Or curl an’ sleek a pickle hair, | |
| Wud be right laith, | |
| Whan pacing wi’ a gawsy air | |
| In gude Braid Claith. | 30 |
| |
| If ony mettled stirrah grien | |
| For favour frae a lady’s ein, | |
| He mauna care for being seen | |
| Before he sheath | |
| His body in a scabbard clean | 35 |
| O’ gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
| For, gin he come wi’ coat thread-bare, | |
| A feg for him she winna care, | |
| But crook her bony mou’ fu’ sair, | |
| An’ scald him baith. | 40 |
| Wooers shou’d ay their travel spare | |
| Without Braid Claith. | |
| |
| Braid Claith lends fouk an unco heese, | |
| Makes mony kail-worms butter-flees, | |
| Gies mony a doctor his degrees | 45 |
| For little skaith: | |
| In short, you may be what you please | |
| Wi’ gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
| For thof ye had as wise a snout on, | |
| As Shakespeare or Sir Isaac Newton, | 50 |
| Your judgment fouk wud hae a doubt on, | |
| I’ll tak’ my aith, | |
| Till they cou’d see ye wi’ a suit on | |
| O’ gude Braid Claith. | |
| |
