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words by Allan Cunningham (1784 - 1842) to the traditional tune Andro and his Cutty Gun first printed in 1810 in Cromek's Reliques (or Remains) of Nithsdale and Galloway Song.
Early Jacobite song mocking King George I (1660 - 1727), the once prince of Hanover, then elector of Hanover who had been appointed by the English parliament, and his love of delving in his vegetable patch.
Early Jacobite song mocking King George I (1660 - 1727), the once prince of Hanover, then elector of Hanover who had been appointed by the English parliament, and his love of delving in his vegetable patch.
de'il = devil
lairdie = landowner
gaed = went
yairdie = yard
kail = cabbage
breeks = trousers
cleeks = puts on
clappit doun = sat down
brocht = brought
daur = dare
pu' = pull
mou' = mouth
cauld = cold
lairdie = landowner
gaed = went
yairdie = yard
kail = cabbage
breeks = trousers
cleeks = puts on
clappit doun = sat down
brocht = brought
daur = dare
pu' = pull
mou' = mouth
cauld = cold
Wee Bit German Lairdie, The
by trad
Wha the de'il hae we gotten for a king
But a wee, wee German lairdie
When we gaed to bring him hame
He was delvin' in his yairdie
He was sheughing kail an' pu'in' leeks
Aye but the hose an' but the breeks
Wi' his beggar duds he cleeks
Ye wee bit German lairdie
He's clappit doun in our gudeman's chair
This wee bit German lairdie
An' he's brocht forth o' foreign trash
An' dibbled them in his yairdie
He's pu'd the rose o' English loons
Broke the harp o' Irish clowns
Our thistle taps will jag his thumbs
Ye wee bit German lairdie
Come up amangst our Hieland Hills
Ye wee bit German lairdie
An' see the Stuart's lang kail thrive
They hae dibbled in our yairdie
An' if a stock ye daur to pu'
Or haud the yokin' o' a plough
We'll break your sceptre owre your mou'
Ye wee bit German lairdie
Our hills are steep, our glens are deep
Nae fitting for a yairdie
Our Norland thistles winna pu'
Ye wee bit German lairdie
We've the trenching blades o' weir
Wad prune ye o' your German gear
We'll pass ye 'neath the claymore's shear
Ye feckless German lairdie
Scotland, thou'rt ower cauld a hole
For nursin' siccan vermin
But the very hounds o' the English court
They bark, they howl in German
So keep thy dibble in thy ain hand
Thy spade but an' thy yairdie
For wha the de'il now claims your land (pause)
But a wee, wee German lairdie
But a wee, wee German lairdie
When we gaed to bring him hame
He was delvin' in his yairdie
He was sheughing kail an' pu'in' leeks
Aye but the hose an' but the breeks
Wi' his beggar duds he cleeks
Ye wee bit German lairdie
He's clappit doun in our gudeman's chair
This wee bit German lairdie
An' he's brocht forth o' foreign trash
An' dibbled them in his yairdie
He's pu'd the rose o' English loons
Broke the harp o' Irish clowns
Our thistle taps will jag his thumbs
Ye wee bit German lairdie
Come up amangst our Hieland Hills
Ye wee bit German lairdie
An' see the Stuart's lang kail thrive
They hae dibbled in our yairdie
An' if a stock ye daur to pu'
Or haud the yokin' o' a plough
We'll break your sceptre owre your mou'
Ye wee bit German lairdie
Our hills are steep, our glens are deep
Nae fitting for a yairdie
Our Norland thistles winna pu'
Ye wee bit German lairdie
We've the trenching blades o' weir
Wad prune ye o' your German gear
We'll pass ye 'neath the claymore's shear
Ye feckless German lairdie
Scotland, thou'rt ower cauld a hole
For nursin' siccan vermin
But the very hounds o' the English court
They bark, they howl in German
So keep thy dibble in thy ain hand
Thy spade but an' thy yairdie
For wha the de'il now claims your land (pause)
But a wee, wee German lairdie