Gramachree Molly/Scornfu' Nansy

SCORNFU' NANSY.

NAnsy's to the Green Wood gane,
to hear the gowdſpink chatt'ring,
And Willie he has follow'd her,
to gain her love by flatt'ring:

But a' that he cou'd ſay or do,
she geck'd and ſcorned at him;
And ay when he began to woo,
she bade bim mind wha gat him.

What ails thee at my dad, quoth he,
my minnie, or my aunty!
With crowdy mowdy they fed me,
lang-kail and ranty-tanty:

With bannocks of good barley-meal,
of thae they were right plenty,
With chapped ſtocks butter'd fu' weel,
and was nae that right dainty.

Although my father was nae laird,
'tis daffin to be vaunty,
He keepet ay a good kail-yard,
a ha' houſe and a pantry:

A good blue bonnet on his head,
an o'erlay 'bout his craigy;
And ay unto the day he dy'd,
he rade on good shanks naggy.

Now wae and wander on your ſnout,
wad ye hae bonay Nanſy!
Wad ye compare ye'er fell to me,
a docken to a tansie!

I hae a wooer of my ain,
they ca' him souple Sandy,
And weel I wat his bonny mou'
is ſweet like fugar-candy.
Wow, Nansy, what needs a' this din?
do l not ken this Sandy?
I’m sure the chief of a' his kin
was Rab' the beggar randy:

His minnie Meg upo' her back
bare baith him and his billy;
Will ye compare a nasty pack,
to me your winsome Willie?

My Gutcher left a good braid sword,
though it be auld and rusty.
Yet ye may tak it on my word,
it is baith true and trusty;

And if I can but get it draws,
which will be right uneasy,
I shall lay baith my lugs in pawn,
that he stiall get a heezy.

Then Nansy turn’d her round about,
and said, Did Sandy hear ye,
Ye wadna miss to get a clout,
I ken he difna fear ye.

Sae ha’d your tongue, and say nae mair,
set some where else your fancy.
For as lang as Sandy’s to the fore,
ye never shall get Nansy.