DOONFIT
DOONFIT.
(Called now, I believe , DOONFOOT)
With a cheerful heart, a’e Paisley Fair,
Within three miles o’ dear auld Ayr,
In a cosy nook near Doonfit,
To rest a wee, I there did sit.
While all alone I there did rest,
The sun was sinking in the West;
The surging billows did loudly roar,
And boldly leaped towards the shore.
But suddenly came down the gloaming gray,
And warned me to seek my homeward way:
But ere I reached Green Street Lane,
Curious thoughts ran through my brain.
I thocht if Robin were alive noo,
He’d sit nae mair wi’ a boozin’ crew,
Nor fondly caress the whisky bottle;
He’d sign the pledge and become teetotal.
But I needna bother wastin’ ink,
Enough’s been said aboot the drink;
The maist o’ folk ken o’ its fau’t;
By the good old Book they have been taught,
Wine is a mocker, and at the end
It robs us of our dearest friend.
But I maun noo change my tune,
There’s ither fancies in my croon,
If Robin saw the esplanade
And the great improvement that’s been made,
The tramway cars,and the electric light,
Illuminating the streets at night;
If he saw Turner’s brig on the river Ayr
And the Soldier’s statue in the Station Square;
If he saw himself cut oot in stane,
Queer thochts wad flash a’ through his brain;
If he saw the hoose whaur he wis born,
Ancc mair again he’d soond his horn.
But ere this story’s at an and,
I’ve one thing more to let you ken;
If I was a wealthy millionaire,
