O how can I get a bit weyse? says lang Andrew
Shadric, come tell me, lad, what I mun dee
Tou kens I's just twenty,
Hae houses, lans plenty,
A partner I want--ay--
But nin 'll ha'e me!

'Twas furst blue--e'ed Betty that meade my mouth watter,
She darn'd my auld stockins, my crivet and aw;
Last harvest, when sheerin,
Wi' jeybin and jeerin,
She fworc'd me to swearin--
Bett ne'er mair I saw!

Neist reed--heeded Hannah to me seem'd an angel,
And com to our house monie a neet wid her wark;
I yence ax'd to set her,
She said she kent better:
Whea thinks te can get her?
E'en dast Symie Clark!

Then smaw--weasted Winny meade gowns for our Jenny;
Andrew, man, stick tull her! mudder oft said;
She hes feyne sense, and money,
Young, lish, smart and bonny,
Is a match, aye for onie.--
But she's for Black Ned!

Then how can I get a bit weyfe? tell me, Shadric!
Tou mun be reet happy, they're aw fond o' thee!
I've followed Nan, Tibby,
Sall, Mall, Fan, and Sibby,
Ett, Luke, Doll, and Debby;
But nin 'll ha'e me!