Three excellent songs (1)/Andrew Carr

ANDREW CARR,

DOWN in yonder glen,
there lives old Bessie Blench,
And she had a daughter,
a comely young wench,
Scarce seventeen winters old,
and she was sore afraid,
That she would no husband get,
and be forc’d to die a maid.

O mother I'll have a man,
if there be one to be had;
For there lives Andrew Carr,
a bonny bucksome lad,
He says he likes me well,
and what can I say mair?
O mother, if you think fit
the priest will mak us a pair.

Begone, you muckle gowk,
and a bonny pair you'll be,
For how do you think he can
maintain himself and thee ?
There’s naething between you twa,
but the claes upon your back;
And when you married are,
there’s many a thing you lack.

O mother you are cross,
as cross as cross you can be,
For then lives Peggy Patch,
she's twa years younger than me,
They had nae wealth of gear;
we hae as muckle as them,
And when they married were,
you never did them blame.

O how could I them blame,
when I the case did read,
For it was plainly seen
young Rodger had done the deed;
And if you be free of him.
as good-send you may be,
If you wed Andrew Carr,
you'll never get mair of me.

O mother, when you was young;
when you was young and braw,
You liked the lads as well
as ony of us a’;
So you may haud your tongue
for you I winna believe,
If you was as young again,
you would be like the lave.

Coming from the fair
the bonny bucksome loon.
He would come home with me,
and so the deed was done:
So he has done his worst,
and you can do no more,
And what care I for that,
if I get Andrew Carr.

O then says Bessie Blench,
there has been muckle to do,
For we will a’ be sham’d
if he'll no buckle to.
How durst you let the lown
presume to play the fool?
But for the fau’t he’s done,
he must ride the repenting-stool.

So Peg she held her tongue,
till Bess she said nae mair;
Then straightway they sent
for spanky Andrew Carr.
The clown he kept his word,
and quickly came with speed:
So now they married are,
and free to do the deed.
Chorus.—Row-de, dow-de, dow, &c.