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[Footnote 1: Not published by Burns.]

Tune—“Daintie Davie.”

There was a lad was born in Kyle,

But whatna day o' whatna style,

I doubt it's hardly worth the while

To be sae nice wi' Robin.

Chor.—Robin was a rovin' boy,

Rantin', rovin', rantin', rovin',

Robin was a rovin' boy,

Rantin', rovin', Robin!

Our monarch's hindmost year but ane

Was five-and-twenty days begun^2,

'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' win'

Blew hansel in on Robin.

Robin was, &c.

[Footnote 2: January 25, 1759, the date of my

bardship's vital existence.—R.B.]

The gossip keekit in his loof,

Quo' scho, “Wha lives will see the proof,

This waly boy will be nae coof:

I think we'll ca' him Robin.”

Robin was, &c.

“He'll hae misfortunes great an' sma',

But aye a heart aboon them a',

He'll be a credit till us a'—

We'll a' be proud o' Robin.”

Robin was, &c.

“But sure as three times three mak nine,

I see by ilka score and line,

This chap will dearly like our kin',

So leeze me on thee! Robin.”

Robin was, &c.

“Guid faith,” quo', scho, “I doubt you gar

The bonie lasses lie aspar;

But twenty fauts ye may hae waur

So blessins on thee! Robin.”

Robin was, &c.