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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Woo’d and Married and A’

By Joanna Baillie (1762–1851)

THE BRIDE she is winsome and bonny,

Her hair it is snooded sae sleek,

And faithfu’ and kind is her Johnny,

Yet fast fa’ the tears on her cheek.

New pearlins are cause of her sorrow,

New pearlins and plenishing too:

The bride that has a’ to borrow

Has e’en right mickle ado.

Woo’d and married and a’!

Woo’d and married and a’!

Isna she very weel aff

To be woo’d and married at a’?

Her mither then hastily spak:—

“The lassie is glaikit wi’ pride;

In my pouch I had never a plack

On the day when I was a bride.

E’en tak’ to your wheel and be clever,

And draw out your thread in the sun;

The gear that is gifted, it never

Will last like the gear that is won.

Woo’d and married and a’!

Wi’ havins and tocher sae sma’!

I think ye are very weel aff

To be woo’d and married at a’!”

“Toot, toot!” quo’ her gray-headed faither,

“She’s less o’ a bride than a bairn;

She’s ta’en like a cout frae the heather,

Wi’ sense and discretion to learn.

Half husband, I trow, and half daddy,

As humor inconstantly leans,

The chiel maun be patient and steady

That yokes wi’ a mate in her teens.

A kerchief sae douce and sae neat,

O’er her locks that the wind used to blaw!

I’m baith like to laugh and to greet

When I think o’ her married at a’.”

Then out spak’ the wily bridegroom,

Weel waled were his wordies I ween:—

“I’m rich, though my coffer be toom,

Wi’ the blinks o’ your bonny blue e’en.

I’m prouder o’ thee by my side,

Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few,

Than if Kate o’ the Croft were my bride,

Wi’ purfles and pearlins enow.

Dear and dearest of ony!

Ye’re woo’d and buiket and a’!

And do ye think scorn o’ your Johnny,

And grieve to be married at a’?”

She turn’d, and she blush’d, and she smil’d,

And she looket sae bashfully down;

The pride o’ her heart was beguil’d,

And she played wi’ the sleeves o’ her gown;

She twirlet the tag o’ her lace,

And she nippet her bodice sae blue,

Syne blinket sae sweet in his face,

And aff like a maukin she flew.

Woo’d and married and a’!

Wi’ Johnny to roose her and a’!

She thinks hersel’ very weel aff

To be woo’d and married at a’!