| |
| THE BRIDE she is winsome and bonny, | |
| Her hair it is snooded sae sleek, | |
| And faithfu’ and kind is her Johnny, | |
| Yet fast fa’ the tears on her cheek. | |
| New pearlins are cause of her sorrow, | 5 |
| New pearlins and plenishing too, | |
| The bride that has a’ to borrow, | |
| Has e’en right mickle ado, | |
| Woo’d and married and a’! | |
| Woo’d and married and a’! | 10 |
| Is na’ she very weel aff | |
| To be woo’d and married at a’? | |
| |
| Her mither then hastily spak, | |
| “The lassie is glaikit wi’ pride; | |
| In my pouch I had never a plack | 15 |
| On the day when I was a bride. | |
| E’en tak’ to your wheel, and be clever, | |
| And draw out your thread in the sun; | |
| The gear that is gifted, it never | |
| Will last like the gear that is won. | 20 |
| Woo’d and married and a’! | |
| Wi’ havins and tocher sae sma’! | |
| I think ye are very weel aff, | |
| To be woo’d and married at a’!” | |
| |
| “Toot, toot!” quo’ her grey-headed faither, | 25 |
| “She’s less o’ a bride than a bairn, | |
| She’s ta’en like a cout frae the heather, | |
| Wi’ sense and discretion to learn. | |
| Half husband, I trow, and half daddy, | |
| As humour inconstantly leans, | 30 |
| The chiel maun be patient and steady, | |
| That yokes wi’ a mate in her teens. | |
| A kerchief sae douce and sae neat, | |
| O’er her locks that the winds used to blaw! | |
| I’m baith like to laugh and to greet, | 35 |
| When I think o’ her married at a’!” | |
| |
| Then out spak’ the wily bridegroom, | |
| Weel waled were his wordies, I ween, | |
| “I’m rich, though my coffer be toom, | |
| Wi’ the blinks o’ your bonny blue een. | 40 |
| I’m prouder o’ thee by my side, | |
| Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few, | |
| Than if Kate o’ the Croft were my bride, | |
| Wi’ purfles and pearlins enow. | |
| Dear and dearest of ony! | 45 |
| Ye’re woo’d and buikit and a’! | |
| And do ye think scorn o’ your Johnny, | |
| And grieve to be married at a’?” | |
| |
| She turn’d, and she blush’d, and she smiled, | |
| And she looket sae bashfully down; | 50 |
| The pride o’ her heart was beguiled, | |
| And she played wi’ the sleeves o’ her gown; | |
| She twirled the tag o’ her lace, | |
| And she nippit her boddice sae blue, | |
| Syne blinket sae sweet in his face, | 55 |
| And aff like a maukin she flew. | |
| Woo’d and married and a’! | |
| Wi’ Johnny to roose her and a’! | |
| She thinks hersel very weel aff, | |
| To be woo’d and married at a’! | 60 |
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