O, I wad like to ken — to the beggar-wife says I —
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.
An’ siller, that's sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi'e.
— It's gey an’ easy speirin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
O, I wad like to ken — to the beggar-wife says I —
Hoo a’ things come to be whaur we find them when we try.
The lassies in their claes an’ the fishes in the sea.
— It's gey an’ easy speirin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
O’ I wad like to ken — to the beggar-wife says I —
Why lads are a’ to sell an’ lasses a’ to buy;
An’ naebody for dacency but barely twa or three.
— It's gey an’ easy speirin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
O, I wad like to ken — to the beggar-wife says I —
Gin death's as shüre to men as killin’ is to kye,
Why God has filled the yearth sae fu’ o’ tasty things to pree.
— It's gey an’ easy speirin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
O, I wad like to ken — to the beggar-wife says I —
The reason o’ the cause an’ the wherefore o’ the why,
Wi’ mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e'e.
— It's gey an’ easy speirin’, says the beggar-wife to me.