“Black Madge she is prudent.”  “What ’s that to me?”
      “She is eident and sober, has sense in her noddle—­
      Is douce and respeckit.”  “I carena a boddle;
    I ’ll baulk na my luve, and my fancy ’s free.” 
      Madge toss’d back her head wi’ a saucy slight,
    And Nanny run laughing out to the green;
      For wooers that come when the sun shines bright
    Are no like the wooers that come at e’en.

    Awa’ flung the laird, and loud mutter’d he,
      “All the daughters of Eve, between Orkney and Tweed, O: 
      Black and fair, young and old, dame, damsel, and widow,
    May gang, wi’ their pride, to the wuddy for me.” 
      But the auld gudewife, and her Mays sae tight,
    For a’ his loud banning cared little, I ween;
      For a wooer that comes in braid daylight
    Is no like a wooer that comes at e’en.

[33] This song was contributed by Miss Baillie to “The Harp of Caledonia.”

WOO’D, AND MARRIED, AND A’.[34]

    The bride she is winsome and bonnie,
      Her hair it is snooded sae sleek;
    And faithful and kind is her Johnnie,
      Yet fast fa’ the tears on her cheek. 
    New pearlings are cause o’ her sorrow—­
      New pearlings and plenishing too;
    The bride that has a’ to borrow
      Has e’en right muckle ado. 
        Woo’d, and married, and a’;
        Woo’d, and married, and a’;
        And is na she very weel aff,
        To be woo’d, and married, and a’?

    Her mither then hastily spak—­
      “The lassie is glaikit wi’ pride;
    In my pouches I hadna a plack
      The day that 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, an’ a’,
        Tocher and havings sae sma’;
        I think ye are very weel aff
        To be woo’d, and married, and a’.”

    “Toot, toot!” quo’ the gray-headed faither;
      “She ’s less of a bride than a bairn;
    She ’s ta’en like a cowt frae the heather,
      Wi’ sense and discretion to learn. 
    Half husband, I trow, and half daddy,
      As humour inconstantly leans;
    A chiel maun be constant and steady,
      That yokes wi’ a mate in her teens. 
        Kerchief to cover so neat,
        Locks the winds 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 bonnie blue een;
    I ‘m prouder o’ thee by my side,
      Though thy ruffles or ribbons be few,
    Than if Kate o’ the