WILLY was a wanton wag,
The blythest lad that e’er I saw,
At bridals still he bore the brag,
And carried ay the gree awa:
His doublet was of Zetland shag,
And wow! but Willy he was braw,
And at his shouder hang a tag,
That pleas’d the lasses best of a’.
He was a man without a clag,
His heart was frank without a flaw;
And ay whatever Willy said,
It was still hadden as a law.
His boots they were made of the jag,
When he went to the weapon-shaw,
Upon the green nane durst him brag,
The feind a ane amang them a’.
And was not Willy well worth gowd?
He wan the love of great and sma’;
For after he the bride had kiss’d,
He kiss’d the lasses hale sale a’,
Sae merrily round the ring they row’d,
When be the hand he led them a’,
And smack on smack on them bestow’d,
By virtue of a standing law.
And was na Willy a great lown,
As shyre a lick as e’er was seen?
When he danc’d with the lasses round,
The bridegroom speer’d where he had been.
Quoth Willy, I’ve been at the ring,
With bobbing, faith, my shanks are fair;
Gae ca’ your bride and maidens in,
For Willy he dow do nae mair.
Then rest ye, Willy, I’ll gae out,
And for a wee fill up the ring;
But shame light on his souple snout,
He wanted Willy’s wanton fling.
Then straight he to the bride did fare,
Says, well’s me on your bonny face,
With bobbing Willy’s shanks are fair,
And I am come to fill his place.
Bridegroom, she says, you’ll spoil the dance,
And at the ring you’ll ay be lag,
Unless like Willy ye advance;
(O! Willy has a wanton leg)
For we’t he learns us a’ to steer,
And formast ay bears up the ring;
We will find nae sic dancing here,
If we want Willy’s wanton fling.
– New Words by Different Hands.