Bold dragoon/O Wha's at My Chamber Door

o wha's at my chaumber door,

O wha's at my chaumber door?
'Fair widow, are ye wauking?'
Auld Carle, your suit give o'er,
Your love lies a' in tauking’
Give me the lad that's young and tight,
Sweet like an April meadow;
'Tis sic as he can bless the sight
And bosom of a widow,—

'O widow, wilt thou let me in,
I'm pauky, wise, and thrifty,
And come of a right gentle kin,
An’ little mair than fifty.'
Daft carle, dit your mouth,
What signifies how pauky
Or gentle bora ye be—bot youth,
In love your but a gawky.

'Then, widow, let these guineas speak,
That powerfully plead clinken,
Aud if they fail, my mouth I’ll steek,
And nae mair love will think on.’
These court indeed, I maun confess,
I think they make you young sir,
An ten times belter can express
Affection than your tongue, sir.