The Scottish Works of Alexander Ross ... Consisting of Helenore, or The Fortunate Shepherdess; Songs; The Fortunate Shepherd, or The Orphan: Edited, with notes, glossary and life by Margaret Wattie |
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BILLET BY JEANY GRADDEN. |
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 | The Scottish Works of Alexander Ross |  |
158
BILLET BY JEANY GRADDEN.
Dear batchleour, I've read your billet,
Your strait an' your hardships I see;
An' tell you it shall be fulfilled,
Tho' it were by none other but me.
These forty years I've been neglected,
An' nane has had pity on me;
Such offer should not be rejected,
Whoever the offerer be.
Your strait an' your hardships I see;
An' tell you it shall be fulfilled,
Tho' it were by none other but me.
These forty years I've been neglected,
An' nane has had pity on me;
Such offer should not be rejected,
Whoever the offerer be.
For beauty, I lay no claim to it,
Or may be I had been away;
Tho' tocher or kindred could do it,
I have no pretensions to thae;
The most I can say, I'm a woman,
An' that I a wife want to be;
An' I'll tak exception at no man
That's willing to tak nane at me.
Or may be I had been away;
Tho' tocher or kindred could do it,
I have no pretensions to thae;
The most I can say, I'm a woman,
An' that I a wife want to be;
An' I'll tak exception at no man
That's willing to tak nane at me.
And now I think I may be cocky,
Since fortune has smurtl'd on me;
I'm Jenny, an' ye shall be Jockie;
'Tis right we together sud be;
For nane of us cud find a marrow,
So sadly forfairn were we,
Fouk sud no at any thing tarrow,
Whose chance looked naething to be.
Since fortune has smurtl'd on me;
I'm Jenny, an' ye shall be Jockie;
'Tis right we together sud be;
For nane of us cud find a marrow,
So sadly forfairn were we,
Fouk sud no at any thing tarrow,
Whose chance looked naething to be.
On Tuesday speer for Jeany Gradden.
When I i' my pens ween to be,
Just at the sign of The Old Maiden,
Where ye shall be sure to meet me.
Bring with you the priest for the wedding,
That a' things just ended may be,
An' we'll close the whole with the bedding,
An' wha'll be sae merry as we?
When I i' my pens ween to be,
Just at the sign of The Old Maiden,
Where ye shall be sure to meet me.
159
That a' things just ended may be,
An' we'll close the whole with the bedding,
An' wha'll be sae merry as we?
A cripple I'm not, ye forsta' me,
Tho' lame of a hand that I be;
Nor blind is there reason to ca' me,
Altho' I see but with ae eye;
But I'm just the chap that you wanted,
So tightly our state doth agree;
For nane wad hae you, ye have granted;
As few, I confess, wad hae me.
Tho' lame of a hand that I be;
Nor blind is there reason to ca' me,
Altho' I see but with ae eye;
But I'm just the chap that you wanted,
So tightly our state doth agree;
For nane wad hae you, ye have granted;
As few, I confess, wad hae me.
| The Scottish Works of Alexander Ross | |