My auld uncle Willie cam doun here frae Lunnon,
An' wow but he was a braw man;
An' a' my puir cousins around him cam rinnin',
Frae mony a lang mile awa', man.
My uncle was rich, my uncle was proud —
He spak o' his gear, and he bragg'd o' his gowd;
An' whate'er he hinted, the puir bodies vow'd
They wad mak it their love an' their law, man.

He staid wi' them a' for a week time about,
Feastin', an' fuddlin', an' a', man,
Till he fairly had riddled the puir bodies out,
An' they thocht he was ne'er gaun awa', man. —
And neither he was; he had naething to do,
He had made a' their fortunes and settled them too;
Though they ne'er saw a boddle they'd naething to
For they thocht they wad soon hae it a', man.

But when our braw uncle had stay'd here a year,
I trow but he wasna a sma' man,
Their tables cam down to their auld hamilt cheer,
An' he gat himsel' book'd to gae 'wa', man.
Syne when he was startin', the hale o' his kin
Cam to the coach-door, maistly chokin' him in,
And they smoor'd him wi' presents o' a' they could fin',
An' he vow'd he had dune for them a', man. —

And sae had he too; for he never cam back,
My sang! but he wasna a raw man,
To feast for a year without paying a plack,
An' gang wi' sic presents awa', man.
An' aften he bragg'd how he cheated the greed
O' his grey gruppy kinsmen be-north o' the Tweed:
An' the best o't — when auld uncle Willie was dead,
He left them — just naething ava, man .