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But a' that he cou'd ſay or do,
ſhe geck'd and ſcorned at him;
And ay when he began to woo,
ſhe bade bim mind wha gat him.
What ails thee at my dad, quoth he,
my minnie, or my aunty!
With crowdy mowdy they fed me,
lang-kail and ranty-tanty:
With bannocks of good barley-meal,
of thae they were right plenty,
With chapped ſtocks butter'd fu' weel,
and was nae that right dainty.
Although my father was nae laird,
'tis daffin to be vaunty,
He keepet ay a good kail-yard,
a ha' houſe and a pantry:
A good blue bonnet on his head,
an o'erlay 'bout his craigy;
And ay unto the day he dy'd,
he rade on good ſhanks naggy.
Now wae and wander on your ſnout,
wad ye hae bonay Nanſy!
Wad ye compare ye'er fell to me,
a docken to a tanſie!
I hae a wooer of my ain,
they ca' him ſouple Sandy,
And weel I wat his bonny mou'
is ſweet like fugar-candy.
