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My laddie he sent a love letter to me,
That in a short time we married should be,
The same I received with heart and good will,
And hopes for to enjoy my laddie still.
My laddie still, &c.
My laddie sent me a braw gold ring,
On our wedding-night a far better thing,
And ay the o’erward of the tune,
Was oxter the bride in the afternoon.
In the afternoon, &c.
My daddie he my tocher paid,
That very day that I was married,
But what’s gone and past we ne’er can recall,
Yet I’ll oxter my laddie in spite of them all.
In spite of them all, &c.
Thirteen maidens all in a row,
That day to the kirk with me did go;
It was a bra’ time of sweet delight,
For I oxter’d my laddie the length of the night.
The length of the night,
The length of the night,
For I oxter’d my laddie the length of the night.
OLD KING COUL.
OLD King Coul was a jolly old Soul,
and a jolly old soul was he,
Old King Coul he had a brown bowl,
and they brought him in fidlers three:
And every fidler was a very good fidler,
and a very good fidler was he,
Fidle-didle, fidle-didle, went the fidlers three
and there’s no a lass in braid Scotland,
compared to our sweet Marjory.
Old King Coul was a jolly old foul,
and a jolly old soul was he,
