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;8o TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS
No. 201. Last May a braw wooer.
Tune : The Lothian lassie Thomson's Scotish Airs, 1799, p. 5a.
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me. I said there was naething I hated like men—
The deuce gae wi'm to believe me, believe me—
The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me!
He spak o' the darts in my bonie black een,
And Vow'd for my love he was diein. I said, he might die when he liket for Jean —
The Lord forgie me for liein, for liein—
The Lord forgie me for liein 1
A weel-stocket mailen, himsel for the laird, • And marriage aff-hand were his proffers; I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd,
But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers—
But thought I might hae waur offers.
But what wad ye think?—in a fortnight or less—
The deil tak his taste to gae near her— He up the lang loan to my black cousin, Bess,
Guess ye how, the jad 1 I could bear her, could bear her—
Guess ye how, the jad ! I could bear her.
But a' the neist week, as I petted wi' care,
I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock, And wha but my fine fickle lover was there?
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock, ,
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.....