Rob’s Jock, pp.181-183.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

A very auld Ballat


ROB’s Jock came to woo our Jenny

On ae feast-day when we were fou; 

She brankit fast and made her bonny, 

And said, Jock, come ye here to woo? 

She burnist her baith breast and brou, 

And made her cleer as ony clock; 

Then spak her dame, and said, I trou 

Ye come till woo our Jenny, Jock


Jock said, forsuith, I yern fu’ fain, 

To luk my head, and sit down by you: 

Then spak her minny, and said again, 

My bairn has tocher enough to gie you. 

Tehie! qo Jenny, kick, kick, I see you: 

Minny, you man maks but a mock. 

Deil hae the liars – fu leis me o’ you, 

I come to woo your Jenny, qo Jock


My bairn has tocher of her awin; 

A guse, a gryce, a cock and hen, 

A stirk, a staig, and acre sawin, 

Bakbread and a bannock-stane; 

A pig, a pot, and a kirn there-ben, 

A kame but and a kaming-stock; 

With coags and luggies nine or ten: 

Come ye to woo our Jenny, Jock? 


A wecht, a peet-creel and a cradle, 

A pair of clips, a graip, a flail, 

An ark, an ambry, and a ladle,  

A milsie, and sowen-pale, 

A rousty whittle to sheer the kail, 

And a timber-mell the bear to knock, 

Twa shelfs made of an auld fir-dale: 

Come ye to woo our Jenny, Jock


A furm, a furlet, and a peck, 

A rock, a reel, and a wheel-band, 

A tub, a barrow, and a seck, 

A spurtil-braid, and an elwand. 

Then Jock took Jenny be the hand, 

And cry’d, a feast! and flew a cock, 

And made a brydal upo’ land. 

Now I have got your Jenny, qo Jock


Now dame, I have your doughter marri’d, 

And tho’ ye mak it ne’er sae tough, 

I let you wit she’s nae miscarried, 

Its well kend I have gear enough: 

Ane auld gawd gloyd fell owre a heugh, 

A spade, a speet, a spur, a sock; 

Withouten owsen I have a pleugh: 

May that no ser your Jenny, qo Jock? 


A treen truncher, a ram-horn spoon, 

Twa buits of barkit blasint leather, 

A’ graith that ganes to coble shoon, 

And a thrawcruik to twyne a teather, 

Twa croks that moup amang the heather, 

A pair of branks, and a fetter lock, 

A teugh purse made of a swine’s blather, 

To had your tocher, Jenny, qo Jock


Good elding for our winter fire, 

A cod of caff wad fill a cradle, 

A rake of iron to clat the bire, 

A deuk about the dubs to padle, 

The pannel of an auld led-sadle, 

And Rob my eem hecht me a stock, 

Twa lusty lips to lick a ladle. 

May thir no gane your Jenny, qo Jock? 


A pair of hames and brechom fine, 

And without bitts a bridle-renzie, 

A sark made of the linkome twine, 

А gay green cloke that will not stenzie; 

Mair yet in store – I needna senzie, 

Five hundred flaes, a fendy flock; 

And are not thae a wakrife menzie, 

To gae to bed with Jenny and Jock? 


Tak thir for my part of the feast, 

It is well knawin I am weel bodin: 

Ye need not say my part is least, 

Wer they as meikle as they’r lodin. 

The wife speerd gin the kail was sodin, 

When we have done, tak hame the brok; 

The rost was teugh as raploch hodin, 

With which they feasted Jenny and Jock

Old Songs

Leave a Reply