He wifely this white Minute took,
And flang his Arms about her.
My Chrifly-witness, bony Stream,
Sic Joys frae Tears arifing,
I wish this may na be a Dream ;-
O Love the maist surprising!
Time was too precious now for Tauk,
This Point of a' his Wishes,
He wadna with fet Speeches bauk,
But wair'd it a on Kifles.
Scornfu' NANSY.
NAny's to the Green Wood gane,
To hear the Gowdfpinks chatring,
And Willie he has followed her,
To win her Love by flat'ring:
But a' that he cou'd fay or do,
She geck'd and scorned at him,
And ay when he began to woo,
She bad him mind wha gat him.
What ails ye at my Dad, quoth he,
My Minny or my Aunty,
With Crowdy Mowdy, they fed me,
Lang-Kail and Ranty Taunty:
With Bannocks of good Barly Meal,
Of thae there was right Plenty,
With chapped Stocks fou butter'd well,
And was not that right dainty.
Altho my Father was nae Laird,
"Tis Dafine to be vaunty,
He keepit ay a good Kail Yard,
A Ha' House and a Pantrie:
A good blew Bonnet on his Head,
An Owrlay 'bout his Cragy,
And ay until the Day he died,
He rade on good Shanks Nagy.
Now Wae and Wander on your Snout,
Wad ye ha'e bony Nanfy,
Wad ye compare ye'r fell to me,
A Docken till a Tanfie.
I have a Woer of my ain,
They ca' him fouple Sandy,
And well I wat his bony Mou
Is sweet like Sugar-Candy.
Wow Nanfy what needs a' this Din,
Do I not ken this Sandy
I'm fure the Chief of a' his Kin
Was Rab the Beggar Randy :
His Minny Meg upo' her Back
Bare baith him and his Billy;
Will ye compare a nafty Pack
To me your winfome Willy.
My Gutcher left a good braid Sword,
Tho' it be auld and rufty,
Yet ye may take it on my Word,
It is baith ftout and trufty;
And if I can but get it drawn,
Which will be right uneasy,
I shall lay baith my Lugs in Pawn,
That he shall get a Heezy.
Then Nanfy turn'd her round about,
And faid did Sandy hear ye,
Ye wadna mifs to get a Clout,
I ken he difna fear ye :
Sae had ye're Tongue and fay nae mair,
Set fomewhere else your Fancy;
For as lang's Sandy's to the fore
Ye never shall get Nanfy.
To the Tune of The Kirk wad let me be.
IS I have feven braw new Gowns,
And ither feven better to mak,
And yet for a' my new Gowns,
My Wooer has turn'd his Back.
Befides I have seven Milk Ky,
And Sandy he has but three;
And yet for a' my good Ky,
The Laddie winna ha'e me.
My Dady's a Delver of Dikes,
My Mither can Card and Spin,
And I am a fine fodgel Lafs,
And the Siller comes linkin in,
The Siller comes linkin in,
And it is fou fair to fee,
And fifty Times wow! O wow!
What ails the Lads at me.
When ever our Bauty does bork,
Then fast to the Door I rin,
To fee gin ony young Spark
Will light and venture but in:
But never a ane will come in,
Tho' mony a ane gaes by,
Syne far Ben the House I rin,
And a weary Wight am I.
When I was at my first Pray'rs,
I pray'd but anes i'the Year,
I wish'd for a handsome young Lad,
And a Lad with muckle Gear.
When I was at my neist Prayers,
I pray'd but now and than,
I fafh'd na my Head about Gear,
If I gat a handfome young Man.
Now when I'm at my last Prayers,
I pray on baith Night and Day, And O if a Beggar wad come,
With that fame Beggar I'd gae. And O and what'll come o'me,
And O and what'll I do,
That fic a braw Laffie as I
Shou'd die for a Wooer I trow.
|