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 The Songster's Garland.

THE LAIRD OF COCKPEN.

The Laird o' Cockpen he's proud and he's great ,

His mind is ta'en up wi' things o' the state,

He wanted a wife his braw house to keep;

But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.

Doun by the dyke side a lady did dwell,

At his table head he thocht she'd look well ;

M'Clish's ae dochter o' Claverseha' Lee,

A pennyless lass, wi' a lang pedigree.

His wig was weel pouther'd, as guid as when new,

His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;

He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hāt;

And wha could refuse the laird wi' a that?

He took the grey mare, and rode cannily

An' rapp'd at the yett o' Claverseha' Lee,

" Gae, tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben

She's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen.

Mistress Jean she was makin' the elder-flower wine,

" An' what brings the laird at sic a like time?

She pat aff her apron, and on her silk gown,

Her mutch wi' red ribbons, an' gaed awa down.

An' when she can ben, he bowed fu' low;

An' what was his errand he soon let her know,

Amazed was the laird when the lady said-Naw,

An' wi' a high court'sy she turn'd awa.