Merry May the Maid Be
Merry may the maid be that marries the miller
For weety day an dry day he's aye bringin' to her
His aye a penny in his purse for dinner an for supper
Aye gin she please a good fat cheese an lumps o yellow butter.
When Jamie first did woo wi' me I spear'd what was his callin'
"Fair maid," says he, "O come an see ye're welcome tto my dwellin."
Though I wis shy yet I could spy the truth o what he told me
An that his house was warm an couth an room in it to hold me.
Behind the door a bag o meal an in the kist was plenty
Of good hard cakes his mither makes an bannocks werena scanty.
A good fat sow, a sleeky cow was standing in the byre
While lazy puss wi mealy mouth wis playin' at the fire.
"Gooid signs are these," my mither says, an bids me tak the miller
"For weety day an dry day he's aye bringing tull her
For meal and malt she disna want nor onything that's dainty
An now an then a kecklin hen to lay her eggs aplenty."
In winter when the wind an rain blaws o'er the house and byre
She sits beside a clean hearth stane before a rousing fire
With nut-brown ale he tells the tale which rows him owre fu nappy (drunk)
Whoi'd be a king a petty thing when a miller lives so happy.
From the Greig-Duncan Collection
Collected from Margaret Gillespie