by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)

The weary pund o' tow
Language: Scottish (Scots) 
The weary pund, the weary pund,
  The weary pund o' tow;
I think my wife will end her life,
  Before she spin her tow. -

I bought my wife a stane o' lint,
  As gude as e'er did grow;
And a' that she has made o' that
  Is ae poor pund o' tow. -
The weary pund, the weary pund ...

There sat a bottle in a bole,
  Beyont the ingle low;
And ay she took the tither souk,
  To drouk the stourie tow. -
The weary pund, the weary pund...

Quoth I, for shame, ye dirty dame,
  Gae spin your tap o' tow!
She took the rock, and wi' a knock,
  She brak it o'er my pow. -
The weary pund, the weary pund...

At last her feet, I sang to see 't,
  Gaed foremost o'er the knowe;
And or I wad anither jad,
  I'll wallop in a tow. -
The weary pund, the weary pund...

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 157