Muirland Willy

Now harken and I will tell you how

Young muirland Willie came here to woo,

Tho' he cou'd neither say nor do;

The truth I tell to you,

And ay he cried, whate'er betide,

Maggy I'll hae to be my bride,

With a fal, dal, &c.

On his grey yade as he did ride,

Wi' durk and pistol by his side,

He prick'd her on wi' meikle pride,

Wi' meikle mirth and glee,

Out o'er yon moss, out o'er yon muir,

Till he came to her daddy's door,

With a fal, dal, &c.

Goodman, quoth he, be ye within,

I'm come your doughter's love to win,

I carena for making meikle din;

What answer gi'e ye me?

Now, wooer, quoth he, would ye light down,

I'll gi'e ye my doughter's love to win,

With a fal, dal, &c.

Now wooer, sin' ye are lighted down,

Where do ye won, or in what town?

I think my doughter winna gloom

On sic a lad as ye.

The wooer he step'd into the house,

And wow but he was wondrous crouse,

With a fal, dal, &c.

The maid put on her kirtle brown,

She was the brawest in a' the town;

I wat on him she didna gloom;

But blinkit bonnilie.

The lover he stended up in haste,

And gript her hard about the waist;

With a fal, dal, &c.

To win your love, maid, I am come here.

I'm young, and hae enough o' gear;

And for myself you needna fear,

Troth tak me whan you like.

He took aff his bonnet, and spat out his chow,

He dighted his gab, and prie'd her mou'.

With a fal, dal, &c.

The maiden blush'd and bing'd fu' law,

She hadna will to say him na,

But to her daddy she left it a',

As they twa cou'd agree.

The lover he ga'e her the tither kiss,

Syne ran to her daddy, and tell'd him this,

With a fal, dal, &c.

Your doughter wad na say me na,

But to yoursell she's left it a',

As we cou'd agree between us twa;

Say, what'll ye gi'e me wi' her?

Now, wooer, quo' he, I hae na meikle,

But sic's I hae, ye's get a pickle.

With a fal, dal, &c.

The bridal-day it came to pass.

Wi' mony a blythsome lad and lass;

But sicken a day there never was,

Sic mirth was never seen.

This winsome couple straked hands,

Mess John ty'd up the marriage-bands,

With a fal, dal, &c.

Sic hirdum dirdum, and sic din,

Sic daffin, laughin, and sic fun,

The minstrels they did never blin',

Wi' meikle mirth and glee.

And ay they bobit, and ay they beck't,

And ay they cross'd and merrilie met,

With a fal, dal, &c.