Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/We'll Gang to Kirk Awa'

We'll Gang to Kirk Awa'.

My lad's a braw and bonny lad, Good-tempered, kind, and free;And, day and night, the bonny boy Is always wooing me:For, though they say we shanna wed, And make a mickle din,Still Jamie fondly whispers me, "Hoot! dinna care a pin!"  For we will gang to kirk, my love,   We'll gang to kirk awa'.

My father's grown a crabbed man, And baits us with his tongue,My mither too, who joins with him, Forgets when she was young;But let them scold, and let them frown, And make a mickle din,Still Jamie fondly whispers me, "Hoot! dinna care a pin!"     For we will gang to kirk, &c.

My granny's kind, and takes our part Whene'er we are not by,And Jamie's hopes are joined to mine, To pray she may not die:For, while we have a friend in her, We fear no mickle din;Still Jamie fondly whispers me, "Hoot! dinna care a pin!"     For we will gang to kirk, &c.