written in 1795
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen, And sair wi' his love he did deave me; I said, there was naething I hated like men, The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me, believe me, The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me. He spak o' the darts in my bonie black een, And vow'd for my love he was dying; I said, he might die when he liked for Jean- The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying, The Lord forgie me for lying! A weel-stocked mailen, himself for the laird, And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers: I never loot on that I kend it, or car'd, But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers, But thought I might hae waur offers. But what wad ye think? In a fornight or less, The deil tak his taste to gae near her! He up the lang loan to my black cousin, Bess, Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could bear her, Buess ye how, the jad! I could bear her. But a' the niest week as I petted wi' care, I gaed to the tryst o' Dalgarnock; And wha buy my fine, flickle lover was there, I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock, I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock. But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink, Least neebors might say I was saucy: My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink, And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie, And vow'd I was his dear lassie. I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet, Gin she had recover'd her hearin, And how her new shoon fit her auld shachl't feet; But, heavens! How he fell a swearin, a swearin, But, heavens! How he fell a swearin. He begged, for Gudesake! I was be his wife, Or else I was kill him wi' sorrow: So e'en to preserve the poor body in life, I think I maun wed him tomorrow, tomorrow, I think I maun wed him tomorrow.