A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.
His wig was weel pouther'd and as gude as new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hat,
And wha could refuse the laird wi' a' that?
He took the grey mare, and rade cannily,
An' rapp'd at the yett o' Clavers-ha' Lee;
"Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,—
She's wanted to speak to the laird o' Cockpen."
Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine;