The poem
GAT ye me, O gat ye me, O gat ye me wi’ naething? Rock an reel, and spinning wheel, A mickle quarter basin: Bye attour my Gutcher has A heich house and a laich ane, A’ forbye my bonie sel, The toss o’ Ecclefechan.
O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang, O haud your tongue and jauner I held the gate till you I met, Syne I began to wander: I tint my whistle and my sang, I tint my peace and pleasure; But your green graff, now Lucky Lang, Wad airt me to my treasure.