Poems by Robert Burns

Presented by the RBWF

Willie brew’d a peck o’ maut

O WILLIE brew’d a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allan cam to see;
Three blyther hearts, that lee lang night
Ye wad na found in Christendie.

Chorus
We are na fou, we 're nae that fou,
But just a drappie in our e'e;
The cock may craw, the day may daw,
And ay we 'll taste the barley-bree!

Here are we met, three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we;
And mony a night we 've merry been,
And mony mae we hope to be!
Chos. We are na fou, &c.

It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That 's blinkin in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But by my sooth she'll wait a wee!
Chos. We are na fou, &c.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa,
A cuckold, coward loun is he!
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',
He is the king amang us three!
Chos. We are na fou, &c.