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I'll gi'e them a' to Marion,
Just on her bridal day.
And ye'se get a greensey apron,
And waistcoat of the London brown,
And vow but ye will be vap'ring,
Whene'er ye gang to the town.
I'm young and stout, my Marion,
Nane dances like me on the green;
And gin ye forsake me. Marion,
I'll e'en draw up wi' Jean.
The Young Laird's Courtship.
Now, Jenny lass, my bonnie bird,
My daddy's dead, and a' that,
He's snugly laid aneath the yird,
An' I'm his heir, an' a' that.
An' a' that, an' a' that,
I'm now a laird, an' a' that,
His gear an' lan's at my comman',
An' muckle mair than a'that.
He left me, wi' his dying breath,
A dwallin'-house, an'a' that,
A byre, a barn, an' wabs o claith,
A big peat-stack, an' a' that.
