Duncan Gray
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duncan gray
duncan gray cam' here to woo,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
on blythe yule-night when we were fou,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
maggie coost her head fu' heigh,
look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
gart poor duncan stand abeigh;
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
duncan fleech'd and duncan pray'd;
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
meg was deaf as ailsa craig,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
grat his e'en baith blear't an' blin',
spak o' lowpin o'er a linn;
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
time and chance are but a tide,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
slighted love is sair to bide,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
shall i like a fool, h he,
for a haughty hizzie die?
she may gae to—france for me!
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
how it comes let doctors tell,
ha, ha, the wooing o't;
meg grew sick, as he grew hale,
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
something in her bosom wrings,
for relief a sigh she brings:
and oh! her een they spak sic things!
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
duncan was a lad o' grace,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
maggie's was a piteous case,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
duncan could na be her death,
swelling pity smoor'd his wrath;
now they're crouse and canty baith,
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
duncan gray cam' here to woo,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
on blythe yule-night when we were fou,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
maggie coost her head fu' heigh,
look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
gart poor duncan stand abeigh;
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
duncan fleech'd and duncan pray'd;
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
meg was deaf as ailsa craig,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
grat his e'en baith blear't an' blin',
spak o' lowpin o'er a linn;
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
time and chance are but a tide,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
slighted love is sair to bide,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
shall i like a fool, h he,
for a haughty hizzie die?
she may gae to—france for me!
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
how it comes let doctors tell,
ha, ha, the wooing o't;
meg grew sick, as he grew hale,
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
something in her bosom wrings,
for relief a sigh she brings:
and oh! her een they spak sic things!
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
duncan was a lad o' grace,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
maggie's was a piteous case,
ha, ha, the wooing o't:
duncan could na be her death,
swelling pity smoor'd his wrath;
now they're crouse and canty baith,
ha, ha, the wooing o't.
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