The Book of Scottish Song/The Mason Laddie

The Mason Laddie.

[Tune, "Sandy ower the lea."]

Leaning ower a window, and looking ower a mound,
I spied a mason laddie, wha gave my heart a wound;
A wound, and a wound, and a deadly wound gave he;
And I wad wash his apron an he wad fancy me.

I winna ha'e the minister, for a' his many books
I winna ha'e the dominie, for a' his wylie looks;
I will ha'e nane o' the twa, though they wad fancy me;
But my bonnie mason laddie he bears awa' the gree.

I winna ha'e the mautman, for a' his muckle sho'el,
Nor will I ha'e the miller, for a' his mity meal,
I wad ha'e nane o' thae twa, though they wad fancy me;
For my bonnie mason laddie he's up the scaffold hie.

I winna ha'e the ploughman, that gangs at the pleuch;
Nor yet will I the chaplain, though he has gear eneuch;
I wad ha'e nane o' thae twa, though they wad fancy me;
For my bonnie mason laddie has stown the heart frae me.

I winna ha'e the souter, that rubs upon the shoon;
Nor yet will I the weaver, that gingles on the loom;
I wad ha'e nane o' thae twa, though they wad fancy me;
For my bonnie mason laddie he bears awa' the gree.

The smith that canna lay an axe is no a man o' craft;
The wright that canna seam a deal can scarcely lay a laft.
The lad that canna kiss a lass is no a lad for me;
But my bonnie mason laddie he can do a' the three.

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