525. Song—Had I the wyte, she bade me by Robert Burns
HAD I the wyte, had I the wyte, Had I the wyte? she bade me; She watch’d me by the hie-gate side, And up the loan she shaw’d me. And when I wadna venture in, A coward loon she ca’d me: Had Kirk an’ State been in the gate, I’d lighted when she bade me.
Sae craftilie she took me ben, And bade me mak nae clatter; “For our ramgunshoch, glum gudeman Is o’er ayont the water.” Whae’er shall say I wanted grace, When I did kiss and dawte her, Let him be planted in my place, Syne say, I was the fautor.
Could I for shame, could I for shame, Could I for shame refus’d her; And wadna manhood been to blame, Had I unkindly used her! He claw’d her wi’ the ripplin-kame, And blae and bluidy bruis’d her; When sic a husband was frae hame, What wife but wad excus’d her!
I dighted aye her e’en sae blue, An’ bann’d the cruel randy, And weel I wat, her willin’ mou Was sweet as sugar-candie. At gloamin-shot, it was I wot, I lighted on the Monday; But I cam thro’ the Tyseday’s dew, To wanton Willie’s brandy.