Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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MERRILY DANCED THE QUAKER'S WIFE. |
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
MERRILY DANCED THE QUAKER'S WIFE.
Merrily danced the Quaker's wife,
And merrily danced the Quaker;
She bought a gown, when at the town,
That gart a' the Friends forsake her;
For it was silk, o' sweet pea green,
Wi' velvet tartan bonnet,
And o'er her lovely brow serene
An Ostrich plume waved on it.
And merrily danced the Quaker;
She bought a gown, when at the town,
That gart a' the Friends forsake her;
For it was silk, o' sweet pea green,
Wi' velvet tartan bonnet,
And o'er her lovely brow serene
An Ostrich plume waved on it.
Merrily danced the Quaker's wife,
And merrily danced the Quaker;
The fiddler's e'e gart him tyne his key
When he look'd on the wife o' the Quaker.
The Quaker coost his snuff-brown coat
And braid-rimm'd hat i' the side room,
And sprang an flang at the Highland Fling,
Wi' his bonny wife and the bridegroom.
And merrily danced the Quaker;
The fiddler's e'e gart him tyne his key
When he look'd on the wife o' the Quaker.
The Quaker coost his snuff-brown coat
And braid-rimm'd hat i' the side room,
And sprang an flang at the Highland Fling,
Wi' his bonny wife and the bridegroom.
Merrily danced the Quaker's wife,
And merrily danced the Quaker;
He sat as close by the toddy bowl
As either the butcher or baker.
He quaff'd and danced till the cock did craw
Beside the miller and brewster,
And frae the bridal wad ne'er withdraw
Till ance he danced Bab at the Bowster.
And merrily danced the Quaker;
He sat as close by the toddy bowl
As either the butcher or baker.
He quaff'd and danced till the cock did craw
Beside the miller and brewster,
And frae the bridal wad ne'er withdraw
Till ance he danced Bab at the Bowster.
Merrily danced the Quaker's wife,
Till the morning sun was glancin';
“My dear,” quo she, “put on your coat,
'Tis time now to end the dancin'.”
“My back and head nae mair I'll cleed,”
Quo' he, “in Quaker's garb now,
But I'll be dress'd as gay's the rest,
And never will thee nor thou you”
Till the morning sun was glancin';
“My dear,” quo she, “put on your coat,
'Tis time now to end the dancin'.”
“My back and head nae mair I'll cleed,”
Quo' he, “in Quaker's garb now,
But I'll be dress'd as gay's the rest,
And never will thee nor thou you”
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |