6
And first they ate the white puddings,
And then they ate the black;
Tho’ muckle thought the goodwife to hersel’,
Yet ne’er a word she spak’.
Then said the one unto the other,
Here man, take my knife,
Do ye tak’ aff the auld man's beard,
And I’ll kiss the goodwife.
But there’s nae water in the house,
And what shall we do then?
What ails you at the pudding bree
That boils into the pan?
O up then started our goodman,
An angry man was he;
Will ye kiss my wife before my face,
And scad me wi’ pudding bree?
Then up then started our goodwife,
Gi’ed three skips on the floor:
Goodman, you’ve spoken the foremost word,
Get up and bar the door.
NOW YE’RE FAR AWA’, LOVE.
Oh! now ye’re far awa’, love,
Ye’re far awa’ frao me,
O'er woodland glens, and rocky dens,
And o’er the raging sea.
