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And aye he waled the leanings lang, till we drew near the town,
When I could hear the kimmers say—'There rides a comelie loun!'
I turned wi' pride and keeked at him, but no as to be seen,
And thought how do wie I wad feel, gin he made love to Jean!
But soon the manly chiel, aff-hand, thus frankly said to me,
'Meg, either tak me to yoursel, or set me fairly free!'
To Glasgow Green I link'd wi' him, to see the ferlies there,
He birled his penny wi' the best—what noble could do mair?
But ere ae fit he'd tak me hame, he cries—'Meg, tell me noo:
Gin ye will hae me, there's my lufe, I'll aye be leal an' true.'
On sic an honest, loving heart how could I draw a bar?
What could I do but tak Bab's hand, for better or for waur?
