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　　Had I The Wyte? She Bade Me

　　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. Poems and Songs of Robert Burns