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| This was written by Robert Burns (1759-1796). The tune was based on an old air from the west of Scotland.
For a full list of Burns tunes at this site, search for Robert Burns in the search engine. |
O hearken, and I will tell you how Young Muirland Willie cam' here to woo, Tho' he could neither say nor do, The truth I tell to you. But aye he cries 'Whate'er betide Maggie I'se hae to be my bride,' With a fal da ra, fal lal da ra, la fal lal da ra, lal da ra la! On his gray yade as he did ride, Wi' dirk and pistol by his side, He prick'd her on wi' meikle pride, Wi' meikle mirth and glee, Out owre yon moss, out owre yon muir, Till he came to her daddie's door, With a fal da ra, fal lal da ra, la fal lal da ra, lal da ra la! 'Now, wooer, sin' ye're lighted down, Where do ye won, or in what town? I think my dochter winna gloom On sic a lad as ye.' The wooer he stepp'd up the house, And wow but he was wondrous crouse, With a fal da ra, fal lal da ra, la fal lal da ra, lal da ra la! The maiden blush'd and bing'd fu' law She had na will to say him na, But to her daddie she lift it a' As they twa could agree. The lover gie'd her then a kiss, Syne she ran to her daddie and tell'd him this. With a fal da ra, fal lal da ra, la fal lal da ra, lal da ra la! The bridal day it cam' to pass, Wi' mony a blythesome lad and lass; But sic a day there never was, Sic mirth was never seen. This winsome couple straked hands, Mess John tied up the marriage bands, With a fal da ra, fal lal da ra, la fal lal da ra, lal da ra la! |
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| From
Seventy Scottish Songs See Bibliography for full information. |
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