Jenny dang the Weaver

At Willie's wedding on the green,

The lasses, bonnie witches,

Were a dress'd out in aprons clean,

And braw white Sunday mutches:

Auld Maggie bade the lads tak' tent,

But Jock would not believe her;

But soon the fool his folly kent,

For Jenny dang the Weaver.

And Jenny dang, Jenny dang,

Jenny dang the Weaver;

But soon the fool his folly kent,

For Jenny dang the Weaver.

At ilka country dance or reel,

Wi' her he would be bobbing;

When she sat down—he sat down,

And to her would be gabbing;

Where'er she gaed baith butt and ben,

The coof would never leave her;

Aye kecklin' like a clocking hen,

But Jenny dang the Weaver.

Jenny dang, &c.

Quo' he, My lass, to speak my mind,

In troth I needna swither;

You've bonnie een, and if you're kind,

I'll never seek anither:

He humm'd and haw'd, the lass cried Peugh!

And bade the coof no deave her;

Syne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh,

And dang the silly weaver.

And Jenny dang, Jenny dang,

Jenny dang the Weaver;

Syne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh,

And dang the silly Weaver.