Page:Auld farmer's salutation to his auld mare Maggy, on giving her a ripp of corn, to Hansel in the New Year.pdf/3

 It's now some nine an' twenty year, Fin' thou was my guid-father's meere; He gied thee me, o’ tocher clear, An' fifty mark; Tho' it was sma' 'twas weel won gear, An' thou was stark

When first I gaed to woo my Jenny, Ye then was tro tin' wi' your mindie: Tho' ye was trickie slee an' funnie, Ye ne'er was donsie; But hamely tawie quite, an' cannie. An’unco sonsie.

That day ye pranc'd wi muckle pride. When ye bu/e[inillegible] my bonnie bride: An sweet an' gracefu' she did ride, Wi' maiden air, Kyle Stewart I could bragged wide, For sic a pair.

Tho' now ye dow but hoyte 'hoble, An' winde like a faumont-coble, That day ye was a jinker noble, For heels an' win', An' ran them till they a did wauble, Far, far, behin'.

When thou an' I were young and skiegh. An' stable meals at fairs were driegh.