And we'll be true to him, if like
His mother he'll deserve it;
Here's to the Queen with loyal mien,
Come join me every true man,
For on her height of power and might,
Her heart has all the woman.
A lone widow woman was Elspeth,
Her bairns to the
graves were a'
And there in her lonely bit cothouse,
The puir body leev'd a' her lane;
But aye she was eident and thrifty,
Her cow a' her treasure and pride,
Nae friens, nae protectors had Elspeth,
No nocht in the world beside,
And muckle she thocht o' the creature,
Wha followed wherever she gaed,
A sensible cow was auld Crummie,
And kent every word that she said.
And memories were linked wi' the creature,
A fond mother canna forget,
For o' the sweet bairns o' her bosom,
It lang was the playmate and pet;
But when the cauld winds o' the winter,
Had shook a' the leaves frae the tree
And hapless wee birdies were courin,
And snaw took us up to the knee,
Puir Crummie got fast in a snawdrift,
And perished ere neebours could save,
And thus Elspeth sighed and sorrowed,
While Crummie was laid in the grave.
"Alas! hae I lost my companion,
I hardly can think it is true,
I had but ae friend in the world,
And oh, I'll be desolate noo,
Ye were left when the bairns o' my bosom
Were a' ane by ane taen awa;
I kent ye were left me in pity,
But noo I'll hae nae ane ava;
And tho' ye were but a dumb creature,
Yet ye had mair thocht in your
And ye had mair sense and affection,
Than some wha belong to our race.
"And noo since ye're gane, my poor Crummie, Wha kens or cares ocht about me,
A puir silly, helpless auld woman,
Wha wishes how sune she may dee;
O what is this wearisome world,
When a' the beloved anes are gane, And why should a feckless auld woman, Be left broken-hearted her lane; I'm like yon old tree in the hollow, Whase sprouts are a' withered awa, And naked it stands to the tempest, And lang ere the simmer maun fa'.
"I scarce kent that I was a widow,
While ilk little bairn was my pride,
But noo they're a' gane to their father,
And a' sleepin' soun by his side;
And aft through the watches o' midnight,
Ere sleep has crept owre mine e'e,
He comes wi' his looks o' affection,
And leads ilka bairn to my knee;
And O while I look in their faces,
I ken that my sorrow is vain,
And its but a wee while I maun tarry,
Till we're a' reunited again.
"Then farewell my faithfu' auld Crummie,
And oh it is part o' my pain,
To ken that we've parted forever,
And ne'er can meet ither again,
Was't only for me my puir Crummie,
Was sent as a comforter here;
Micht there no be some green spot or ither,
Whaur she may again reappear.
Ah no, the fond wish o' my bosom,
I ken is but foolish and vain,
For oh we hae parted forever,
And ne'er can meet ither again."
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