So he married a girl that was counted a catch,
An’ as ugly as need be, the dark little patch—
But that was a trifle, he told her.
She brought him her good-lookin’ gold to admire,
She brought him her good-lookin’ cows to his byre,
But far from good-lookin’ she sat by his fire—
An’ paid him that ‘thrifle’ he tould her.
He met pretty Nan when a month had gone by,
An’ he thought, like a fool, to get round her he’d try;
Wid a smile on her lip an’ a spark in her eye,