'Shall I, like a fool,' quoth he,
'For a naughty hizzie die? [hussy]
She may gae to--France for me!'
Ha, ha, the wooing o't
How it comes let doctors tell,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Meg grew sick as he grew haill, [whole]
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Something in her bosom wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings;
And O, her een they spak sic things! [such]
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan was a lad o' grace,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Maggie's was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan could na be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath; [smothered]
Now they're crouse and cantie baith! [lively, cheerful]
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
DUNCAN DAVISON
There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg, [called]
And she held o'er the moors to spin;
There was a lad that follow'd her,
They ca'd him Duncan Davison.
The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh, [dull, skittish]
Her favour Duncan could na win;
For wi' the rock she wad him knock, [distaff]
And ay she shook the temper-pin. [regulating pin of
the spinning-wheel]
As o'er the moor they lightly foor, [went]
A burn was clear, a glen was green,
Upon the banks they eased their shanks,
And aye she set the wheel between:
But Duncan swore a haly aith, [holy oath]
That Meg should be a bride the morn;
Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith, [implements]
And flung them a' out o'er the burn.
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