Let me tyke up to dight that tear, [reach, wipe]
And go wi' me an' be my dear,
And then your every care an' fear
May whistle owre the lave o't. [rest]

CHORUS

I am a fiddler to my trade,
An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd,
The sweetest still to wife or maid,
Was _Whistle Owre the Lave o't_.

At kirns and weddings we'se be there, [harvest-homes, we shall]
And oh! sae nicely's we will fare;
We'll house about, till Daddie Care
Sing _Whistle Owre the Lave o't_.

Sae merrily the banes we'll pyke, [pick]
An' sun oursels about the dyke, [wall]
An' at our leisure, when ye like,
We'll--whistle owre the lave o't.

But bless me wi' your heav'n o' charms,
An' while I kittle hair on thairms, [tickle, catgut]
Hunger, cauld, and a' sic harms, [such]
May whistle owre the lave o't.

Recitativo