Ha ha the wooing o't；
On blythe Yule night when we were fou
Ha ha the wooing o't：
Maggie coost her head fu' high
Look'd asklent and unco skeigh
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh；
Ha ha the wooing o't！
Duncan fleech'd and Duncan pray'd
Ha ha the wooing o't；
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig；
Ha ha the wooing o't：
Duncan sigh'd baith out and in
Grat his een baith bleer't and blin'
Spak o' lowpin ower a linn！
Ha ha the wooing o't！
Time and chance are but a tide
Ha ha the wooing o't；
Slighted love is sair to bide
Ha ha the wooing o't：
Shall I like a fool quoth he
For a haughty hizzie dee？
She may gae to—France for me！
Ha ha the wooing o't！
How it comes let doctors tell
Ha ha the wooing o't；
Meg grew sick—as he grew hale
Ha ha the wooing o't：
Something in her bosom wrings
For relief a sigh she brings！
And oh her een they spak sic things！
Ha ha the wooing o't！
Duncan was a lad o' grace
Ha ha the wooing o't；
Maggie's was a piteous case
Ha ha the wooing o't：
Duncan could na be her death
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath；
Now they're crouse and canty baith
Ha ha the wooing o't！