SONG
,
POVERTY
PARTS
GOOD
COMPANY
,
(
FOR
AN
OLD
SCOTCH
AIR
.
)
WHEN
my
o'erlay
was
white
as
the
foam
o'
the
lin
,
And
siller
was
chinkin
my
pouches
within
,
When
my
lambkins
were
bleatin
on
meadow
an
brae
,
As
I
went
to
my
love
in
new
cleeding
sae
gay
,
Kind
was
she
,
and
my
friends
were
free
,
But
poverty
parts
good
company
.
How
swift
passed
the
minutes
and
hours
of
delight
,
When
piper
played
cheerly
,
and
crusie
burned
bright
,
And
linked
in
my
hand
was
the
maiden
sae
dear
,
As
she
footed
the
floor
in
her
holy-day
gear
!
Woe
is
me
;
and
can
it
then
be
,
That
poverty
parts
sic
company
?
We
met
at
the
fair
,
and
we
met
at
the
kirk
,
We
met
i'
the
sunshine
,
we
met
i'
the
mirk
;
And
the
sound
o'her
voice
,
and
the
blinks
o'her
een
,
The
cheerin
and
life
of
my
bosom
hae
been
.
Leaves
frae
the
tree
,
at
Mertimass
flee
,
And
poverty
parts
sweet
company
.
At
bridal
and
infare
,
I
braced
me
wi'
pride
,
The
bruise
I
hae
won
,
and
a
kiss
o'
the
bride
;
And
loud
was
the
laughter
good
fellows
among
,
As
I
uttered
my
banter
or
chorused
my
song
;
Dowie
and
dree
are
jestin
and
glee
,
When
poverty
spoils
good
company
.
Wherever
I
gaed
kindly
lasses
looked
sweet
,
And
mithers
and
aunties
were
unco
discreet
;
While
kebbuck
and
beeker
were
set
on
the
board
;
But
now
they
pass
by
me
,
and
never
a
word
!
Sae
let
it
be
,
for
the
worldly
and
slee
Wi'
poverty
keep
nae
company
.
But
the
hope
of
my
love
is
a
cure
for
its
smart
,
And
the
spae-wife
has
tauld
me
to
keep
up
my
heart
,
For
,
wi'
my
last
saxpence
,
her
loof
I
hae
crost
,
And
the
bliss
that
is
fated
can
never
be
lost
.
Though
cruelly
we
may
ilka
day
see
How
poverty
parts
dear
company
.