The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell ... Now first collected and edited, with memoir, by Robert Howie Smith |
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JENNY DANG THE WEAVER—SONG. |
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 | The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell |  |
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JENNY DANG THE WEAVER—SONG.
At Willie's wedding o' the green,
The lassies, bonnie witches,
Were busked out in aprons clean,
And snaw-white Sunday's mutches.
Auld Maysie bade the lads tak tent,
But Jock wad na believe her,
But soon the fool his folly kent,
For—Jenny dang the Weaver.
The lassies, bonnie witches,
Were busked out in aprons clean,
And snaw-white Sunday's mutches.
Auld Maysie bade the lads tak tent,
But Jock wad na believe her,
But soon the fool his folly kent,
For—Jenny dang the Weaver.
In ilka countra dance and reel
Wi' her he wad be babbin';
When she sat doun, then he sat doun,
And till her wad be gabbin';
Whare'er she gaed, or butt or ben,
The coof wad never leave her,
Aye cacklin' like a clockin' hen,
But—Jenny dang the Weaver.
Wi' her he wad be babbin';
When she sat doun, then he sat doun,
And till her wad be gabbin';
Whare'er she gaed, or butt or ben,
The coof wad never leave her,
Aye cacklin' like a clockin' hen,
But—Jenny dang the Weaver.
Quo' he, “My lass, to speak my mind,
Gude haith, I needna swither,
Ye've bonny e'en, and gif ye're kind,
I needna court anither.”
He humm'd and haw'd—the lass cried pheugh!
And bade the fool no deave her;
Then crack'd her thumb, and lap, and leugh,
And—dang the silly Weaver.
Gude haith, I needna swither,
Ye've bonny e'en, and gif ye're kind,
I needna court anither.”
He humm'd and haw'd—the lass cried pheugh!
And bade the fool no deave her;
Then crack'd her thumb, and lap, and leugh,
And—dang the silly Weaver.
| The poetical works of Sir Alexander Boswell | |