Chorus—­The wean wants a cradle,
     And the cradle wants a cod: 
     I’ll no gang to my bed,
     Until I get a nod.

     Father, quo’ she, Mither, quo she,
     Do what you can,
     I’ll no gang to my bed,
     Until I get a man. 
     The wean, &c.

     I hae as gude a craft rig
     As made o’yird and stane;
     And waly fa’ the ley-crap,
     For I maun till’d again. 
     The wean, &c.

Crowdie Ever Mair

     O that I had ne’er been married,
     I wad never had nae care,
     Now I’ve gotten wife an’ weans,
     An’ they cry “Crowdie” evermair.

     Chorus—­Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,
     Three times crowdie in a day
     Gin ye crowdie ony mair,
     Ye’ll crowdie a’ my meal away.

     Waefu’ Want and Hunger fley me,
     Glowrin’ by the hallan en’;
     Sair I fecht them at the door,
     But aye I’m eerie they come ben. 
     Ance crowdie, &c.

Mally’s Meek, Mally’s Sweet

     Chorus—­Mally’s meek, Mally’s sweet,
     Mally’s modest and discreet;
     Mally’s rare, Mally’s fair,
     Mally’s every way complete.

     As I was walking up the street,
     A barefit maid I chanc’d to meet;
     But O the road was very hard
     For that fair maiden’s tender feet. 
     Mally’s meek, &c.

     It were mair meet that those fine feet
     Were weel laced up in silken shoon;
     An’ ’twere more fit that she should sit
     Within yon chariot gilt aboon,
     Mally’s meek, &c.

     Her yellow hair, beyond compare,
     Comes trinklin down her swan-like neck,
     And her two eyes, like stars in skies,
     Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck,
     Mally’s meek, &c.

Jockey’s Taen The Parting Kiss

     Air—­“Bonie lass tak a man.”

     Jockey’s taen the parting kiss,
     O’er the mountains he is gane,
     And with him is a’ my bliss,
     Nought but griefs with me remain,
     Spare my Love, ye winds that blaw,
     Plashy sleets and beating rain! 
     Spare my Love, thou feath’ry snaw,
     Drifting o’er the frozen plain!

     When the shades of evening creep
     O’er the day’s fair, gladsome e’e,
     Sound and safely may he sleep,
     Sweetly blythe his waukening be. 
     He will think on her he loves,
     Fondly he’ll repeat her name;
     For where’er he distant roves,
     Jockey’s heart is still the same.

Verses To Collector Mitchell

     Friend of the Poet, tried and leal,
     Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal;
     Alake, alake, the meikle deil
     Wi’ a’ his witches
     Are at it skelpin jig and reel,
     In my poor pouches?