Wha wadna be in love
Wi’ bonny Maggy Lawder
A piper met her gaun to Fife,
And spier’d what was’t they ca’d her
Right scornfully she answer’d him
Begone, you hallanshaker;
Jog on your gate, you bladderskate
My name is Maggie Lawder.
Maggy, quoth he, and by my bags,
I’m fidging fain to see you
Sit down by me, my bonny bird,
In troth I winna steer thee:
For I’m a piper to my trade,
My name is Rob the Ranter;
The lasses loup as they were daft
When I blaw up my chanter.
Piper, quoth Meg, hae you your bags,
Or is your drone in order?
If you be Rob, I’ve heard of you,
Live you upo’ the border?
The lasses a’, baith far and near,
Have heard of Rob the Ranter;
I’ll shak my foot wi’ right good will,
Gif you’ll blaw up your chanter.
Then to his bags he flew with speed,
About the drone he twisted,
Meg up, and wallop’d o’er the green,
For brawly cou’d she frisk it.
Weel done, quoth he; Play up, quoth she:
Weel bob’d, quoth Rob the Ranter;
’Tis worth my while to play indeed,
When I hae sic a dancer.
Weel hae you play’d your part, quoth Meg,
Your cheeks are like the crimson;
There’s nane in Scotland plays sae weel,
Since we lost Habbie Simpson.
I’ve liv’d in Fife, baith maid and wife,
These ten years and a quarter;
Gin you should come to Enster fair,
Spier ye for Maggy Lawder.