The Book of Scottish Song/Now Jenny, lass

Now Jenny, lass.

[The author of this song is a Mr. Somerville. It was jocosely known among his friends as the "Somerville Testament."—Tune, "Garyowen."]

Now, Jenny lass, my bonnie bird,
My daddy's dead, an' a' that;
He's snugly laid aneath the yird,
And I'm his heir, an' a' that.
I'm now a laird, an' a' that;
I'm now a laird, an' a' that;
His gear an' land's at my command,
And muckle mair than a' that.

He left me wi' his deein' breath
A dwallin' house, an' a' that;
A barn, a byre, an' wabs o' claith—
A big peat-stack, an' a' that.
A mare, a foal, an' a' that,
A mare, a foal, an' a' that,
Sax guid fat kye, a cauf forby,
An' twa pet ewes, an' a' that.

A yard, a meadow, lang braid leas,
An' stacks o' corn an' a' that—
Enclosed weel wi' thorns an* trees;
An' carts, an' cars, an' a' that.
A pleugh, an' graith, an' a' that,
A pleugh, an' graith, an' a' that;
Guid harrows twa, cock, hens, an' a'—
A gricie too, an' a' that.

I've heaps o' claes for ilka days,
For Sundays too, an' a' that;
I've bills an' bonds, on lairds an' lands,
An' siller, gowd, an' a' that.
What think ye, lass, o' a' that?
What think ye, lass, o' a' that?
What want I noo, my dainty doo,
But just a wife to a' that.

Now, Jenny dear, my errand here,
Is to seek ye to a' that;
My heart's a' loupin' while I speer
Gin ye'll tak' me, wi' a' that.
Mysel', my gear, an' a' that,
Mysel', my gear, an' a' that;
Come, gi'e's your loof to be a proof,
Ye'll be a wife to a' that.

Syne Jenny laid her neive in his,
Said, she'd tak' him wi' a' that;
An' he gied her a hearty kiss,
An' dauted her, an' a' that.
They set a day, an' a' that,
They set a day, an' a' that;
Whan she'd gang hame to be his dame,
An' haud a rant, an' a' that.

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