Three Songs (Edinburgh)/Captain Ward and the Rainbow, etc./Argyle's Courtship to a an English Lady

For other versions of this work, see The Duke of Argyle's Courtship to an English Lady.

Duke of Argyle's Courtship.

Did you never of a loyal Scot,
Who ne'er was concern'd in any ⟨plot.⟩
I wish it might fall to my lot,
To marry me my deary O.
 I wish I had you in Kintyre,
There your beauty I should admire,
Then would I have my heart's desire,
And marry you my deary O.
 You shall have servants stout and ⟨stark⟩,
Both in and out to work your wark,
And I will kiss you in the dark,
And marry you my deary O.
 You shall have bannocks barley ⟨store,⟩
With goose and gasling at your door,
And a good chaff bed upon the floor,
If you marry me my deary O.
 You shall have plenty good Scots ⟨kail,⟩
With a good fat haggies at every meal,
And after that Scots cakes and ale,
If you'll marry me my deary O.
 Begone you proud and fancy Scot.
Your haggies sall ne'er boil in my ⟨pot,⟩
You sall never be my deary O.
 I'll clout your hose and sky your shoon
And if you chance to have a son,
I'll make him lord when all is done.
If you will marry me my deary O.
 Your clouted hose I cannot wear,
And you mended shoes I can't endure,
As for you lordship it is not sure
And you shall never be my deary O.
 I am a lord of high renown.
Great Argyle when I come to town.
Since my blue bonnet has fallen down,
You shall never be my deary O.
 De'il pick out your twa black een,
I wish your face I had never seen,
You are but a proud and saucy queen,
And you shall never qe my deary O.
 O pardon, pardon, Argyle allow,
For what I've done in saying so,
To the Highland hills with you I'll go,
And I long to be your deary O
 There's not a whore in all London town,
Shall e'er set a foot on Campbell's ground
I am something related to the crown,
And you shall never be my deary O.
 I am a noble lord of high renown,
⟨I⟩ am great Argyle when I come to town
While drums do beat and trumpets sound
You shall never be my deary O.
 I wish I had you in Lancashire
To follow me through dub and mire,
Hats frae bonnets may yet retire,
And you shall never be my deary O.