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...
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796) [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by (Franz) Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809), "The weary pund o' tow", JHW XXXII/3 no. 202, Hob. XXXIa no. 129bis [ sung text checked 1 time]
- by Francis George Scott (1880 - 1958), "The weary pund o' tow", published 1922 [male voice and piano], from Scottish lyrics set to music, Book 2, no. 6, Bayley & Ferguson [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]
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