Wha'll Mow Me Now ?

O wha'll mow me now, my jo.And wha'll mow me now,A sodger with his bandileersHas bang'd my belly fou.

O I hae tint my rosy cheek,Likewise my waist sae sma',O wae gae wi' the sodger loon,The sodger did it a'.

And wha'll, &c.

For I maun thole the scornfu' sneer,O mony a saucy queen.When, curse upon her godly face,Her c——'s as merry's mine.

And wha'll, &c.

Our dame holds up her wanton tail,As oft as she down lies,And yet misca's a young thing,The trade if she but tries.

And wha'll, &c.

Our dame has aye her ain gudeman,And f——s for glutton greed,And yet misca's a poor thing,That f——s for its bread.

And wha'll, &c.

Alack! sae sweet a tree as love,Sae bitter fruit should bear,Alas! that e'er a merry c—t,Should draw so mony a tear.

And wha'll, &c.

But devil tak' the lousy loon,Denies the bairn he got,Or leaves the merry lass he lo'ed,To wear a ragged coat.

And wha'll, &c.