3
Sic was Jean, whan Will first mawing
Spied her on a thraward beast,
Flew like fire, and, just when fa’ing,
Kept her on his manly breast.
Light he bare her, pale as ashes,
Cross the meadow fragrant, green,
Placed her on the new mown rashes,
Watching said her opening een.
Sic was Will, when poor Jean, fainting,
Drap into a lover's arms;
Wakened to his saft lamenting,
Sighed and blushed a thousand charms.
Soon they loo'd, and soon was buckled
Nane took time to think and rue:
Youth, and worth, and beauty, coupled,
Love had never less to do.
Three short years flew by fu' canty,
Jean and Will thought them but ane;
Ilka day brought joy and plenty,
Ilka year a dainty wean.
Will wrought sair, but aye wi' pleasure;
Jean the hale day span and sang;
Will and weans her constant treasure,
Blest wi' them, nae day seemed lang.
Trig her house, and oh! to busk aye
Ilk sweet bairn was a' her pride,
But at this time NEWS and WHISKY
Sprang nae up at ilk road side.
