Widow, are ye waking?

O wha's that at my chamber door?

"Fair widow, are ye waking?"

Auld carle, your suit give o'er,

Your love lyes a' in tawking.

Gi'e me a lad that's young and tight,

Sweet like an April meadow;

'Tis sic as he can bless the sight

And bosom of a widow.

"O widow, wilt thou let me in?

"I'm pawky3, wise, and thrifty;

"And come of a right gentle kin,

"I'm little mair than fifty."

Daft carle, dit your mouth,

What signifies, how pawky

Or gentle born ye be -- but troth --

In love ye're but a gawky.

"Then, widow, let those guineas speak,

"That powerfully plead clinkan;

"And if they fail, my mouth I'll steek,

"And nae mair love will think on.

" These court indeed, I maun confess,

I think they mak you young, sir,

And ten times better can express

Affection, than your tongue, sir.