O Donald! Ye Are Just The Man | The Siller Croun

O Donald! Ye Are Just The Man

O Donald! yes are just the man
Who, when he's got wife,
Begins to fratch-nae notice ta'en-
They're strangers a' their life.

The fan may drop-she takes it up,
The husband keeps his chair;
She hands the kettle-gives his cup-
Without e'en-"thank ye, dear."

Now, truly, these slights are but toys;
But frae neglects like these,
The wife may soon slattern grow,
And strive nae mair to please.

For wooers ay do all they can
To trifle wi' the mind;
They hold the blaze of beauty up,
And keep the poor things blind.

But wedlock tears away the veil,
The goddess is nae mair;
He thinks his wife a silly thing,
She thinks her man a bear.

Let then the lover be the friend-
The loving friend for life;
Think but thysel the happiest spouse,
She'll be the happiest wife.

The Siller Croun

And ye shall walk in silk attire,
And siller hae to spare,
Gin ye'll consent to be his bride,
Nor think o' Donald mair.
O wha was buy a silken goun
Wi' a poor broken heart!
Or what's to me a siller croun,
Gin frae, my love I part!

The mind wha's every wish is pure
Far dearer is to me;
And ere I'm forc'd to break my faith,
I'll lay me down an' dee!
For I hae pledg'd my virgin troth
Brave Donald's fate to share;
And he has gi'en to me his heart,
Wi' a' its virtues rare.

His gentle manners wan my heart,
He gratefu' took the gift;
Could I but think to seek it back,
It was be waur than theft!
For langest life can ne'er repay
The love he bears to me;
And ere I'm forc'd to break my troth,
I'll lay me doun an' dee.

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