O laddie, whisht! for sic a fricht
I ne'er was in afore;
Fou brawly did my mither hear
The kiss ahint the door.
The wa's are thick—ye needna fear;
But, gin they jeer and mock,
I 'll swear it was a startit cork,
Or wyte the rusty lock.
There 's meikle bliss, &c.
We stappit ben, while Maggie's face
Was like a lowin' coal;
An' as for me, I could hae crept
Into a mouse's hole.
The mither look't—saffs how she look't!—
Thae mithers are a bore,
An' gleg as ony cat to hear
A kiss ahint the door.
Their 's meikle bliss, &c.
The douce gudeman, tho' he was there,
As weel micht been in Rome,
For by the fire he puff'd his pipe,
An' never fash'd his thumb;
But, titterin' in a corner, stood
The gawky sisters four—
A winter's nicht for me they micht
Hae stood ahint the door.
There 's meikle bliss, &c.
"How daur ye tak' sic freedoms here?"
The bauld gudewife began;
Wi' that a foursome yell got up—
I to my heels and ran.
A besom whiskit by my lug,
An' dishclouts half-a-score:
Catch me again, tho' fidgin' fain,
At kissin 'hint the door.
There 's meikle bliss, &c.
THE WIDOW'S AE BIT LASSIE.
Tune—"My only Jo and Dearie, O!"
Oh, guess ye wha I met yestreen
On Kenly banks sae grassy, O!
Wha cam' to bless my waitin' een?—
The widow's ae bit lassie, O!
She brak' my gloamin' dream sae sweet,
Just whaur the wimplin' burnies meet;
The smother'd laugh—I flew to greet
The widow's ae bit lassie, O!
They glintit slee—the moon and she—
The widow's ae bit lassie, O!—
On tremblin' stream an' tremblin' me:
She is a dear wee lassie, O!
How rapture's pulse was beating fast
As Mary to my heart I claspt!
Oh, bliss divine—owre sweet to last—
I 've kiss'd the dear bit lassie, O!
She nestled close, like croodlin' doo—
The widow's ae bit lassie, O!
My cheek to hers, syne mou' to mou'—
The widow's ae bit lassie, O!
Unto my breast again, again,
I prest her guileless heart sae fain;
Sae blest were baith—now she 's my ain,
The widow's ae bit lassie, O!