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Last May A Braw Wooer.

By Robert Burns

Topics: classic

Tune - "The Lothian Lassie." I.         Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,             And sair wi' his love he did deave me;         I said there was naething I hated like men,             The deuce gae wi'm, to believe, believe me,             The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me! II.         He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black een,             And vow'd for my love, he was dying;         I said he might die when he liked for Jean,             The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying,             The Lord forgie me for lying! III.         A weel-stocked mailen - himsel' for the laird -             And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers:         I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd,             But thought I may hae waur offers, waur offers,             But thought I might hae waur offers. IV.         But what wad ye think? In a fortnight or less -             The deil tak his taste to gae near her!         He up the Gateslack to my black cousin Bess,             Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could bear her,             Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her. V.         But a' the niest week as I fretted wi' care,             I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock,         And wha but my fine fickle lover was there!             I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,             I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock. VI.         But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink,             Lest neebors might say I was saucy;         My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,             And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,             And vow'd I was his dear lassie. VII.         I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet,             Gin she had recovered her hearin',         And how my auld shoon suited her shauchled feet,             But, heavens! how he fell a swearin', a swearin',             But, heavens! how he fell a swearin'. VIII.         He begged, for Gudesake, I wad be his wife,             Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow;         So, e'en to preserve the poor body in life,             I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow,             I think I maun wed him to morrow.

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"Tune - "The Lothian Lassie."..."

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Author:Robert Burns

"Tune - "The Lothian Lassie."..." by Robert Burns

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Robert Burns

About Robert Burns

Robert Burns (1759–1796) was Scotland's national poet, celebrated worldwide on Burns Night. He wrote in Scots and English, producing poems like "Auld Lang Syne," "A Red, Red Rose," and "To a Mouse," championing democratic values and the dignity of common people.

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