LAST MAY A BRAW WOOER.
Tune—The Lothian Lassie.
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang gles,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me;
I said there was naething I hated like men,
The deuce tak him to believe me, believe me,
The deuce tak him to believe me.
He spak o' the darts o' my bennie black een
And vowed for my love he was diein:
I said he might die when he liket for Jean,
The Lord forgie me for liein, for liein.
The Lord forgie me for liein!
A weel stockit maileu, himsel for the laird,
And marriage aft-hand was the proffer,
I never loet on that I kent it or cared,
But thought I might get a waur offer, waur offer,
But thought I might get a waur offer.
But what do ye think? in o fortnight or less,
[The deil's in his taste to gang hear her!]
He up the lang lean to my black cousin Bess,
