New way of Johnny's grey-breeks (1)/The Mucking of Geordie's Byre
The Mucking of GEORDIE’S BYRE.
AS I went over yon meadow,
and in by yon little house end,
I stood and I listen’d with pleasure,
while Jenny was singing this song.
CHORUS.
It was not my father’s good will,
nor yet with my mother’s desire,
That ever I fil’d my fingers,
with the mucking of Geordie’s byre.
Though the roads were never so dirty,
and the day was never so foul,
I wad trudge to the midden with Geordie,
I lov’d it far better than school.
When done, and our feet we had dighted,
we merrily ranted and sang,
And thro’ the bull’s buists like young kinnings,
where oft-times I struggled and flang.
There into the hay-nouk he caught me,
where oft he has cock’d on my wame,
I laught and was pleas’d with his actions,
but now they’re discover’d with shame.
My brother he calls me a jade,
because Geordie with me was so free,
My sister she says I’m hood-winked,
But well do I love my young Geordie,
because he’s so cunning and slee,
For oft he cock’d on my caul wame,
and I was as well pleas’d as he.
Such mirth at the mucking of byres,
dear girls take warning by me,
Will make you sit sighing and sobbing,
when you get Bob on your knee.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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