| |
| FY, let us a’ to the wedding, | |
| For they will be lilting there; | |
| For Jock’s to be married to Maggy, | |
| The lass wi’ the gowden hair. | |
| |
| And there will be jibing and jeering, | 5 |
| And glancing of bonny dark een, | |
| Loud laughing and smooth-gabbit speering | |
| O’ questions baith pawky and keen. | |
| |
| And there will be Bessy the beauty, | |
| Wha raises her cockup sae hie, | 10 |
| And giggles at preachings and duty, | |
| Guid grant that she gang na’ ajee! | |
| |
| And there will be auld Geordie Taunner, | |
| Wha coft a young wife wi’ his gowd; | |
| She’ll flaunt wi’ a silk gown upon her, | 15 |
| But wow! he looks dowie and cow’d. | |
| |
| And brown Tibby Fouler the Heiress | |
| Will perk at the tap o’ the ha’, | |
| Encircled wi’ suitors, wha’s care is | |
| To catch up her gloves when they fa’,— | 20 |
| |
| Repeat a’ her jokes as they’re cleckit, | |
| And haver and glower in her face, | |
| When tocherless mays are negleckit,— | |
| A crying and scandalous case. | |
| |
| And Mysie, wha’s clavering aunty | 25 |
| Wad match her wi’ Laurie the Laird, | |
| And learns the young fule to be vaunty, | |
| But neither to spin nor to caird. | |
| |
| And Andrew, wha’s Granny is yearning | |
| To see him a clerical blade, | 30 |
| Was sent to the college for learning, | |
| And cam’ back a coof as he gaed. | |
| |
| And there will be auld Widow Martin, | |
| That ca’s hersel thritty and twa! | |
| And thraw-gabbit Madge wha for certain | 35 |
| Was jilted by Hab o’ the Shaw. | |
| |
| And Elspy the sewster sae genty, | |
| A pattern of havens and sense, | |
| Will straik on her mittens sae dainty, | |
| And crack wi’ Mess John i’ the spence. | 40 |
| |
| And Angus, the seer o’ ferlies, | |
| That sits on the stane at his door, | |
| And tells about bogles, and mair lies | |
| Than tongue ever utter’d before. | |
| |
| And there will be Bauldy the boaster, | 45 |
| Sae ready wi’ hands and wi’ tongue; | |
| Proud Paty and silly Sam Foster, | |
| Wha quarrel wi’ auld and wi’ young: | |
| |
| And Hugh the town-writer, I’m thinking, | |
| That trades in his lawerly skill, | 50 |
| Will egg on the fighting and drinking | |
| To bring after-grist to his mill: | |
| |
| And Maggy—na, na! we’ll be civil, | |
| And let the wee bridie a-be; | |
| A vilipend tongue is the devil, | 55 |
| And ne’er was encouraged by me. | |
| |
| Then fy, let us a’ to the wedding, | |
| For they will be lilting there, | |
| Frae mony a far-distant ha’ding, | |
| The fun and the feasting to share. | 60 |
| |
| For they will get sheep’s-head, and haggis, | |
| And browst o’ the barley-mow; | |
| E’en he that comes latest, and lag is, | |
| May feast upon dainties enow: | |
| |
| Veal florentines in the o’en baken, | 65 |
| Weel plenish’d wi’ raisins and fat | |
| Beef, mutton, and chuckies, a’ taken | |
| Het reekin frae spit and frae pat: | |
| |
| And glasses (I trow ’tis nae said ill), | |
| To drink the young couple good luck, | 70 |
| Weel fill’d wi’ a braw beechen ladle | |
| Frae punch-bowl as big as Dumbuck. | |
| |
| And then will come dancing and daffing, | |
| And reelin and crossin o’ hans, | |
| Till even auld Lucky is laughing, | 75 |
| As back by the aumry she stans. | |
| |
| Sic bobbing and flinging and whirling, | |
| While fiddlers are making their din; | |
| And pipers are droning and skirling, | |
| As loud as the roar o’ the lin. | 80 |
| |
| Then fy, let us a’ to the wedding, | |
| For they will be lilting there, | |
| For Jock’s to be married to Maggy, | |
| The lass wi’ the gowden hair. | |
| |
