Your thoughts are mair of him you will marry, What the colour may be of his hair, Whether aye cheery, or sometimes chary, What his complexion, or dark or fair. But men they are gude, and men they are ill, dears, You may get the leal or the lazy loon; A lover is aft like a gilded pill, dears, The bitter comes after it's gulpèd doon. I fear ye hae little of power to choose him, The husband is settled for you abune; But you've power in holy bands to noose him _Before ye let him tak' aff his shune_. For a maid who is silly and stoops to folly, And finds ower late that she is betrayed, I ken nae cure for her melancholy But a coffin--and let it be quickly made. A braw lover cam' to my minnie's shieling When I was as young as you now may be, Sae saft, like a loon wha's bent on stealing, And he tirled and whispered secretlie. "Oh let me in this ae night, Jenny, And I will for ever thy true love be; Oh let me in this ae night, hinny, And I will come back and marry thee!" "Gae back and awa, for this my will is, My mither lies gleg wi' half-closed ee, And bids me beware of faithless billies, Who will steal my heart and awa frae me flee." "For mercy's sake! this ae night, Jenny, Oh let me scoug frae the wind and rain, And holy vows I will plight thee, hinny, That thou wilt be for ever mine ain." I opened the door so saft and sleeky, For fear my mither should hear the din, And he has ta'en aff his shune so creaky, And I've led him into my cosy ben. Our speckled cock crew loud and early, The day was dawing o'er forest green, And I let him out as wily and warily As ever I let him in yestreen. "Now, fare thee well, my winsome Jenny, For I am a baron of high degree; Now, fare thee well for ever, my hinny, For the wife of a baron thou ne'er canst be." With a ha! ha! ha! and a tra-la-lalla,[A] He stroked the red beard on his chin, With a ha! ha! ha! and a tra-la-lalla, And I have never seen him again. [Footnote A: The reader may here recollect the fine ballad of Bürger, "Der Ritter und sein Liebchen;" and the verse-- Drauf ritt der Ritter hop sa! sa! Und strich sein Bartchen trallala; Sein Leibchen sah ihn reiten Und hörte noch von weiten Sein Lachen ha! ha! ha! ] [The maidens thought the humour gala, And, laughing, they chorused to the strain, "With a ha! ha! ha! and a tra-la-lalla, And you have never seen him again."] Now, dears! if your lovers you would not lose them, Tak' counsel--it is not an hour ower sune: Be sure that in holy bands ye noose them _Before you let them tak' aff their shune_. [The maidens thought they would amuse them, And, laughing, they chorused to the tune, "Oh yes, we in holy bands will noose them _Before we let them tak' aff their shune_."] XXI. THE BALLAD OF MATRIMONY.