A HOULDIN' FOR IVER.

Southland Times, Issue 618, 14 January 1867, Page 3

A HOULDIN' FOR IVER.

(PEOM POEMS, SONGS AND BALLADS, BY JAMB 3 M'DONALD PLECHEB.) Oh, there's nothing on earth like a shed of one's own On a fiel' that's a body's for iver! It's there ye have courage to "lay down yer bone " And give thanks to the bountiful Giver. I would rather be lord of a scraw covered bay Than be tenant at will of a castle ; And I'm happier here in this humble wee way Than an Emperor's wealthiest vassal. Chorus — For iver, for irer! my houldin's -for iver, As neat a wee spot as you'd see ! I envy no throne with a cot of my own For Betty, the childher, and me ! Not a master to plaze, not a mortal to fear, Not a want if we steadily labor ; But from autumn to autumn the height of good cheer And a bite for a hungry neighbor. I live in content like my daddies o 1 yore, No bailie to spy or to plunder ; And I drain it, and dig it, and dung it galore, Till the craps are the counthery's wonder. Chorus — For iver, for iver, &c. When driven in couples like wethers or goats, Poor cotters crowd in at elections, The landlords may scarce from the crathera their votes, But conscience gives me my directions. The dark's but a sarvant, the taicher's a slave, Doctors dodge, and the clergy palaver ; But I needn't knuckle to tyrant or knave — I'm lord of my acres for ever ! Chorus— For iver, for iver, I houl' them for ever, As purty wee fiel's as you'd see ; I envy no thrown with a cot of my own For Betty, the childher, and me ! *