Classic Poem

Can ye play me Duncan Gray,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't
O'er the hills and far awa'
Ha, ha, ha, the girdin' o't.

Duncan came our Meg to woo,
Meg was nice and wadna do,
But like an ether puff'd and blew
At offer o' the girdin' o't

Duncan, he cam' here agin,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
A' was out an' Meg her lane,
Ha, ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
He kiss'd her but, he kiss'd her ben,
He bang'd a thing against her wame;
But troth, I now forget its name,
But, I trow, she gat the girdin' o't.

She took him to the cellar then,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't,
To see gif he could do't again,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
He kiss'd her ance, he kiss'd her thrice,
Till deil a mair the thing wad rise,
To gie her lang the girdin' o't.

But Duncan took her to his wife,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
To be the comfort o' his life,
Ha, ha, the girdin' o't.
An' now she scauls baith night and day,
Except when Duncan's at the play;
An that's as seldom as he may,
He's weary o' the girdin' o't.