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Robert Burns - Duncan Gray
Work rating: Low

Duncan Gray came here to woo, 
         Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
     On blythe Yule night when we were fou,
         Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
     Maggie coost her head fu high,
     Look`d asklent and unco skeigh,
     Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh;
         Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
     Duncan fleech`d, and Duncan pray`d,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Duncan sigh`d baith out and in,
    Grat his een baith bleer`t and blin`,
    Spak o` lowpin owre a linn;
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Time and chance are but a tide,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Slighted love is sair to bide,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    "Shall I, like a fool," quoth he,
    "For a haughty hizzie die?
    She may gae to—France for me!"—
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    How it comes let doctors tell,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Meg grew sick as he grew hale,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Something in her bosom wrings,
    For relief a sigh she brings;
    And O! her een, they spak sic things
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Duncan was a lad o` grace,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Maggie`s was a piteous case,
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
    Duncan could na be her death,
    Swelling pity smoor`d his wrath;
    Now they`re crouse and cantie baith;
        Ha, ha, the wooin o`t!
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