2
'Gude een, gude een,' quo Drearylane,
'Gude een, gude een,' quo he, a wee
'I've come your dochter's love to win,
I kenna how it will do.' a wee
3
'My dochter she's a thrifty lass,
She's spun this gay seven year,
And if it come to gude guiding,
It will be half a heer.'
4
'Rise up, rise up, ye dirty slut,
And wash your foul face clean;
The wooers will be here the night
That suld been here yestreen.'
5
They took him ben to the fire en,
And set him on a chair;
He looked on the lass that he loved best,
And thought she was wondrous fair.
6
The een that was in our bride's head
Was like twa rotten plooms;
She was a chaunler-chaftit quean,
And O but she did gloom!
7
The skin that was on our bride's breast
Was like a saffron bag,
And aye her hand was at her neek,
And riving up the scabs.
8
The hair that was on our bride's head
Was like a heather-cow,
And every louse that lookit out
Was like a brockit ewe.
9
Betwixd Kempy's shouthers was three ells,
His nose was nine feet lang,
His teeth they were like tether sticks,
Between his eyne a span.
10
So aye they kissed, and aye they clapped,
I wat they kissed weel;
The slaver that hang between their mouths
Wad hae tethered a twa year auld bill.