New garland of choice songs/Duncan Gray

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Duncan Gray.

DUNCAN GRAY cam’ here to woo,
ha, ha, the wooing o’t,
On new-year’s day when we were fou,
ha, ha, the wooing o’t;
Maggie coost her head fu’ high.
Look’d asklent and unca 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 fidg’d baith out an’ in,
Grat his e’en baith blear’d and blin’,
Spak’ o’ louping o'er a lin,
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 quoth he,
For a haughty hussy die;
She may gae to France for me,
ha, ha the wooing o’t.

How it comes, let doctors tell,
ha, ha, the woo ng o t,
Meg grew sick as he grew well,
ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Something in her bosom rings,
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
Maggy's was a ticklish 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


This work was published before January 1, 1925, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.