Page:Tarry woo.pdf/7

 O had ye're tongue, m’ doughter, And ye’s get gear enough; The stirk that stands i‘ the tether, And our bra' basin‘d yade, Will carry ye hame your corn, What wad ye be at, ye jade? Woo‘d, and married, &c.

Out spake the bride‘s mither, What deil peeds a‘ this pride; I had nae a plack in my pouch That night I was a bride; My gown was linsy-woolsy, And ne‘er a sark ava; And ye hae ribbons and buskins, Mae than ane or twa. Woo‘d, and married, &c.

What's the matter, quo‘ Willie, Tho‘ we be scant o‘ claes, We'll creep the nearer thegither, And we'll smore a‘ the fleas: Simmer is coming on, And we'll get teats of woo; And we‘ll get a lass o‘ our ain, And she'll spin claiths anew. Woo'd, and married, &c.