University of Virginia Library

Auld John Borthick.

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Tune—“The Toper's delight.”

Auld John Borthick is gane to a weddin',
Frae Edinburgh o'er to the east neuk o' Fife;
His cheeks they war thin, an' his colour was fadin',
But auld John Borthick was mad for a wife.
His heart was as light as the lammie's in July,
An' saft as the mushroom that grows on the lea;
For bonny Miss Jeanie had squeez'd it to ulzie
Wi' ae wily blink o' her bonnie blue e'e.
He sat in a neuk in confusion an' anguish;
His gravat was suddled, but that wasna a';
His head wasna beld, but his brow was turn'd languish;
His teeth warna out, but they war turnin' sma':
He saw bonnie Jeanie afore him was landit;
He saw bonnie Jeanie was favour'd by a';
By lairds an' by nobles respectfully handit;
An' wow but Miss Jeanie was bonnie an' braw!
“Alas!” quo' John Borthick, “they'll spoil the poor lassie,
An' gar her believe that she carries the bell;
I'll ne'er hae a wife sae upliftit an' saucy,
I cou'dna preserve her a month to mysel'!
But yet she's sae handsome, sae modest, an' rosy,
The man wha attains her is blest for his life;
My heart is a yearning to lie in her bosy.
Oh! dear!” quo' John Borthick, “gin I had a wife!”
Lang Geordie was tipsy; he roar'd an' he rantit;
He danc'd an' he sang, an' was brimfu' o' glee;
Of riches, of strength, an' of favour he vauntit;
No man in the world sae mighty as he.
But in cam his wife; he grew sober an' sulky;
She bade him gang hame as he valued his life;
Then cuff'd him, an' ca'd him an ass an' a monkey:
“Ha! faith!” quo' John Borthick, “I'll ne'er hae a wife.”

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The bride an' bridegroom to their bed they retired;
Miss Jeanie was there, an' John Borthick an' a':
He looked at Miss Jeanie, his heart was inspired;
Some said that the tears frae his haffits did fa'.
He saw the bridegroom tak the bride in his bosom;
He kiss'd her, caress'd her, an' ca'd her his life:
John turn'd him about; for he coudna compose him:
“O Lord!” quo' John Borthick, “gin I had a wife!”
The mornin' appeared, an' the cobble was ready;
John Borthick was first at the end o' the bay:
But oh, to his sorrow he miss'd the sweet lady
A beau had her under his mantle away.
In less than a fortnight John Borthick was married.
To ane wha might weel be the joy o' his life:
But yet wi' confusion an' jealousy worried,
He curses the day that he married a wife.