WILL ye go to the ew-bughts, Marion,
And wear in the sheep wi me;
The sun shines sweet, my Marion,
But nae haff sae sweet as thee.
O Marion’s a bonny lass,
And the blyth blinks in her eye;
And fain wad I marry Marion,
Gin Marion wad marry me.
There’s gowd in your garters, Marion,
And silk on your white hauss-bane;
Fu’ fain wad I kiss my Marion
At e’en when I come hame.
There’s braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Wha gape, and glowr with their eye,
At kirk when they see my Marion;
But nane of them lo’es like me.
I’ve nine milk-ews, my Marion,
A cow and a brawny quey,
l’ll gi’e them a’ to my Marion,
Just on her bridal day;
And ye’s get a green sey apron,
And wastcoat of the London brown,
And wow but ye will be vap’ring,
When e’er ye gang to the town.
I’m young and stout, my Marion;
Nane dances like me on the green;
And gin ye forsake me, Marion,
I’ll e’en gae draw up wi’ Jean:
Sae put on your pearlins, Marion,
And kyrtle of the cramasie;
And soon as my chin has nae hair on,
I shall come west, and see ye.
– Old Songs with Additions.