Page:Hallow fair (3).pdf/2



There's fouth o' braw Jockies and Jennies,

Comes weel buskit into the fair,

Wi' ribbons on their cockernonies,

And fouth o' fine flour in their hair.

O Maggie was ne'er sae weel busked,

Syne Willie was tied to his bride;

The poney was ne'er better whisked,

Wi' a cudgel that hang frae his side.

But Maggie was wondrous jealous,

To see Willie busked sae braw:

And Sawney he sat in the ale-house,

And hard at the liquor did ca'.

There was Geordie, that weel-lo'ed his lassie,

He took the pint stoup in his arms,

And hugg'd it, and said, "Troth they're saucie

That lo'es na a gude father's bairn.

There was Wattie, the muirland laddie,

Was mounted upon a grey cowte,

Wi' sword by his side, like a caddie,

To drive in the sheep and the nowte.

His doublet sae weel it did fit him,

It scarcely came down to mid-thigh,

Wi' hair pouther'd, hat, and a feather,

And housing at courpon and tee.