Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/384
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PATIE'S WEDDING.
"Now Maggie, lass, what gars ye taunt?
Is't 'cause that I ha'ena a mailen?
The lad that has gear needna want
For neither a half nor a hale ane.
Is't 'cause that I ha'ena a mailen?
The lad that has gear needna want
For neither a half nor a hale ane.
"My dad has a gude grey mare,
And yours has twa cows and a filly;
And that will be plenty o' gear;
Sae Maggie, be na sae ill-willy."
"Weel, Patie, lad, I dinna ken;
But first ye maun spier at my daddie;
You're quite as weel born as Ben,
And I canna say but I'm ready."
And yours has twa cows and a filly;
And that will be plenty o' gear;
Sae Maggie, be na sae ill-willy."
"Weel, Patie, lad, I dinna ken;
But first ye maun spier at my daddie;
You're quite as weel born as Ben,
And I canna say but I'm ready."
"We ha'e walth o' yarn in clews,
To mak' me a coat and a jimpey,
And plaidin' eneuch to be trews—
Gif I get ye, I shanna scrimp ye!
Now fair fa' ye, my bonnie Meg!
I'se e'en let a smackie fa' on ye:
May my neck be as lang as my leg,
If I be an ill husband unto ye!
To mak' me a coat and a jimpey,
And plaidin' eneuch to be trews—
Gif I get ye, I shanna scrimp ye!
Now fair fa' ye, my bonnie Meg!
I'se e'en let a smackie fa' on ye:
May my neck be as lang as my leg,
If I be an ill husband unto ye!
"Sae gang your ways hame e'en now;
Mak' ready gin this day fifteen days,
And tell your father frae me,
I'll be his gude-son in great kindness."
Maggie's as blythe as a wran,
Bodin' the blast o' ill weather;
And a' the gaite singin' she ran,
To tell the news to her father.
Mak' ready gin this day fifteen days,
And tell your father frae me,
I'll be his gude-son in great kindness."
Maggie's as blythe as a wran,
Bodin' the blast o' ill weather;
And a' the gaite singin' she ran,
To tell the news to her father.
But aye the auld man cried out,
"He'll no be o' that mind on Sunday."
"There's nae fear o' that," quo' Meg,
"For I gat a kiss on the bounty."
"And what was the matter o' that?
It was naething out o' his pocket,
I wish the news were true,
And we had him fairly bookit."
"He'll no be o' that mind on Sunday."
"There's nae fear o' that," quo' Meg,
"For I gat a kiss on the bounty."
"And what was the matter o' that?
It was naething out o' his pocket,
I wish the news were true,
And we had him fairly bookit."
A very wee while after that,
Wha cam' to our biggin but Patie?
Dressed up in a braw new coat,
And anow but he thocht himsel' pretty!
Wha cam' to our biggin but Patie?
Dressed up in a braw new coat,
And anow but he thocht himsel' pretty!