Still by the names you gi'e I'm greeted,
By every Lallan tongue repeated,
I canna turn but what I meet it,
In toun or village;
My bluid, though hot enough, is heated
Till't boils wi' rage.
My deeds that ha'e been handed down,
Sin' I aspired to Heaven's crown,
By thee, Rab, lad, dressed up in rhyme,
To do me skaith,
Are circling still the empire roun'
After thy death.
Ye say I roam in search o' prey,
An' rest na' neither nicht nor day;
A' that ye heard ye'r grannie say
Ye hae confest,
An' mair than hinted at my stay
In Robin's breast.
My secret agents everywhere,
A' Scotland roun', but maist in Ayr,
O guid abuse their ain' an' mair
Ye try to gie them;
Nae credit tae ye that ye were
Acquainted wi' them.
O' ghaists an' kelpies deeds, you ken,
Hauntin' the foord and lonely glen,
Lurin' the tipsy sons of men
In bogs to die;
0' auld wives girnin' but an'ben
Ower bewitched Rye.
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