There's plenty come to woo me.
[By William Anderson, author of "Landscape Lyrics," &c.—Here printed for the first time.]
There's plenty come to woo me,
And ca' me sweet and fair
There's plenty say they lo'e me,
But they never venture mair:
They never say they'll marry,
Though love is all their tune,
From June to January,
From January to June.
I canna keep frae smiling,
At their flatteries and art,
Wi' a' their fond beguiling,
They'll ne'er beguile my heart;
For nought can fix a maiden
Whase heart is warm and true,
But vows wi' marriage laden,
Though mony come to woo!
That a's no gowd that glitters
I've either heard or read,
And that marriage has its bitters
As well as sweets, is said:
But though it gets the blame o'
Some things that winDa tell,
The fau't that folks complain o'
Lies aften wi' themsel'.
The year, as on it ranges,
Within its twalmonths fa',
Shows mony fretful changes,
And's lightsome wi' them a'.
Though winters tempests thicken,
Spring comes wi' cheerful face,
And summer smiles to quicken
A' nature wi' its grace.
The year o' life is marriage,
And we canna wed too sune,
Whan twa divide the carriage,
The wark is cheerily dune.
If one true heart wad ha'e me
For better and for worse,
Wi' him I'd gladly share aye,
The blessing and the curse.
Norland Jockey.
[From Herd's Collection.]
A Southland Jenny, that was right bonnie,
Had for a suitor a Norland Johnnie;
But he was sicken a bashful wooer,
That he could scarcely speak unto her;
Till blinks o' her beauty, and hopes o' her siller,
Forced him at last to tell his mind till her,
My dear, quoth he, we'll nae langer tarry,
Gin ye can loo me, let's o'er the muir and marry.
She.
Come, come awa' then, my Norland laddie,
Though we gang neatly, some are mair gawdy;
And albeit I have neither gowd nor money,
Come, and I'll ware my beauty on thee.
He.
Ye lasses o' the south, ye're a' for dressing;
Lasses o' the north mind milking and threshing;
My minny wad be angry, and sae wad my daddy,
Should I marry ane as dink as a lady;
For I maun ha'e a wife that will rise i" the morning,
Crudle a' the milk, and keep the house a' scolding,
Toolie wi' her nei'bours, and learn at my minny,
A Norland Jocky maun ha'e a Norland Jenny.
She.
My father's only daughter, and twenty thousand pound,
Shall never be bestow'd on sic a silly clown:
For a' that I said was to try what was in ye;
Ga'e hame, ye Norland Jock, and court your Norland Jenny.
The Soger Laddie.
[The tune and first verse of this song are old. The rest is by Ramsay.]
My soger laddie is over the sea,
And he will bring gold and money to me:
And when he comes hame, he'll make me a lady;
My blessing gang wi' my soger laddie.
