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Merry May the Maid Be Merry may the maid be that marries the miller For weety day an dry day he's aye bringin' to her His aye a penny in his purse for dinner an for supper Aye gin she please a good fat cheese an lumps o yellow butter. When Jamie first did woo wi' me I spear'd what was his callin' "Fair maid," says he, "O come an see ye're welcome tto my dwellin." Though I wis shy yet I could spy the truth o what he told me An that his house was warm an couth an room in it to hold me. Behind the door a bag o meal an in the kist was plenty Of good hard cakes his mither makes an bannocks werena scanty. A good fat sow, a sleeky cow was standing in the byre While lazy puss wi mealy mouth wis playin' at the fire. "Gooid signs are these," my mither says, an bids me tak the miller "For weety day an dry day he's aye bringing tull her For meal and malt she disna want nor onything that's dainty An now an then a kecklin hen to lay her eggs aplenty." In winter when the wind an rain blaws o'er the house and byre She sits beside a clean hearth stane before a rousing fire With nut-brown ale he tells the tale which rows him owre fu nappy (drunk) Whoi'd be a king a petty thing when a miller lives so happy. From the Greig-Duncan Collection Collected from Margaret Gillespie RG APR99
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!