Watty's wedding, or, The old maiden's marriage/Watty's Wedding

WATTY's WEDDING.

BETTY gaed to Watty's weddin',
⁠wow but ſhe was wondrous braw!
A Dumbarton youth o' ſax-and thirty,
⁠juſt aboon't a year or twa,
Wi' curl'd hair, and ſilken ſpencer,
⁠like a laſſie in her teens,
Thought nane ken’d her brow was wrinkl’d,
⁠nor ſaw the ſcores about her een.

There's nae ſic cheats as mouly maidens,
⁠when for a man they're keenly bent,
Mony a hundred plans they fa on,
⁠mony a trap they do invent:
Will, a raw young ſimple callan,
⁠his eighteen year had ſcarcely ſeen,
Kend little o the wyles o’ women,
⁠whan on him ſhe fix'd her een.

Whan ſhe danc'd, ſhe ſmil’d and caper’d,
⁠geck’d and toſs'd her head aroun’
And ſae bewitch'd him wi' her glances,
⁠Willie's heart began to ſtoun.
Than he wou'd dance wi' nane but Betty,
⁠Betty ne'er refus'd to riſe,
And met him half-road wi her kiſſes,
⁠a' to catch the youthfu’ prize.

She ſaw the ſimple cuiſſ was gripped
⁠hard and faſt into her net,
O'er the lugs in love was Willie,
⁠the bridal day that night was ſet.
Haſty marriage ne’er was chancy,
⁠experience aft proves this owre true,
If we would look before we loup ay,
⁠we ſeldom wou'd ha'e cauſe to rue.

New-married folks hae months o' pleaſure,
⁠if they never ſhou'd hae mair,
Willie's honey-moon ⟨was⟩ ſhorter,
⁠Betty ſoon began to ſwear.
Three ſhort weeks were ſcarcely over,
⁠when her birſe began to riſe,
Quarrell’d a' thing, pleas'd wi' naething,
⁠but to wear the breeks ſhe tries.

Flytin', ragin', conſtant growlin',
⁠were a' the comforts that he knew;
But ay an hour or twa 'fore bed-time
⁠calmer than a lamb ſhe grew.
He threat'ned mony time to leave her,
⁠but that ne'er gard her change her tone,
She aftentimes lent him a lounder,
⁠when her barlickhoods were on.

His youthfu’ heart wi' grief was broken,
⁠aft he ſigh'd, but ſigh'd in vain;
But when his een began to open,
⁠ſoon reſolv'd to break his chain:
He ſcorn'd to battle wi' a woman,
⁠but fell upon a better ſcheme,
Aff he ſunn'd, but ne'er return'd
⁠to this ſurly grumblin' dame.