Poor Bodies do Naething but Mow

When princes and prelates,And hot-headed zealotsA' Europe had set in a lowe, lowe, lowe,The poor man lies down,Nor envies a crown,But contents himself wi' a mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna poor bodies mow, mow, mow?And why shouldna poor bodies mow?The rich they hae siller, and houses, and land,Poor bodies hae naething but mow.

When Brunswick's great PrinceGaed a crushing to France,Republican billies to cow, cow, cow,Great Brunswick's strange PrinceWould have shown better sense,At hame wi' his Princess to mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.

The Emperor swore,By sea and by shore,At Paris to kick up a row, row, row,But Paris aye ready,Just laughed at the laddie,And bid him gae hame, and gae mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.

When the brave Duke of YorkThe Rhine first did pass,Republican armies to cow, cow, cow,They bid him gae hameTo his Prussian dame,And gie her a kiss and a mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.

Out over the RhineProud Prussia did shine,To spend his last blade he did vow, vow, vow,But Frederick had betterNe'er forded the water,But spent as he ought at a mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.

The black-headed eagle,As keen as a beagle,He hunted o'er height, and o'er howe, howe, howe.In the braes of Gemappe,He fell into a trap,E'en let him get out as he dow, dow, dow.

And why shouldna, &c.

When Kate laid her clawsOn poor Stanislaus,And his p—t—e was bent like a bow, bow, bow,May the deil in her a——eRam a huge p——k of brass,And send her to hell wi' a mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.

Then fill up your glasses,Ye sons of Parnassus,This toast I'm sure you'll allow, allow,Here's to Geordie our King,And Charlotte his Queen,And lang may they live for to mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.

An alternative version of the last stanza.

But truce with commotions, and new fangled notions,A bumper I trust you'll allow, allow;Here's George our good King, and long may he ring,And Charlotte and he tak' a mow, mow, mow.

And why shouldna, &c.