Songs (Brechin 1834)/Young Willie the ploughman

YOUNG WILLIE THE PLOUGHMAN.

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YOUNG Willie, the ploughman, has nae land nor siller
An’ yet the blythe callant's as crouse as a king;
He eourts his ain lass, an’ he sings a sang till her,
Tak tent an’ ye’se hear what the laddie does sing:—
“O! Jenny, to tell that I loe you 'fore ony.
Wad need finer words than I’ve gatten to tell!
Nor need I say to you, ye're winsome and bonnie,—
I’m thinkin’ ye ken that fu’ brawly yoursel’!

“I’ve courted you lang—do ye hear what I'm telling?
I’ve courted you, thinkin’ ye yet wad be mine:
And if we suld marry wi’ only ae shilling,
At the warst, only ae shilling, Jenny, we’se tine.
But love doesna aye lie in gowpens o’ guineas,
Nor happiness dwall whar the coffers aie fu’;
As muckle we’ll surely aye gather atween us,
That want ne’er sal meet us, nor mis’ry pursue.

“The ehiels that are ehristened to riches an’ grandeur,
Ken nought o’ the pleasure that hard labour brings;
What in idleness comes, they'in idleness squander,
While the labouring man toils a’ the lang day an sings!
Then why should we envy the great an’ the noble?
The thocht is a kingdom—it’s ours what we hae!
A boast that repays us for sair wark an’ trouble;
‘I’ve earned it!’ is mair than a monarch can say.

“The green buds now peep through the auld runkled timmer,
The sun, at a breath, drinks the hail morning dew.
An’ nature is glad at the comin’ o’ simmer,
As glad as I’m aye at the smiling o’ you!
The flowers are a’ springing, the birds are a’ singing,
And beauty and pleasure are wooin’ the plain;
Then let us employ it, while we may enjoy it,
The simmer o’ life, Jenny, comes na again!’