The Soor Milk Cairt

Trad.

 Oh I am a country chappie and I'm serving at Polnoon,

On a fairm near to Eaglesham, that fine auld-fashioned toon,

Whaur, wi' the milk each mornin', a little after three,

We tak the road richt merrily, my auld black horse and me.



  Wi' her cheeks sae red and rosie, and e'en sae bonnie blue,

  Dancin' and glancin' she pierced me through and through,

  She fairly won ma fancy, and stole awa' ma hert,

  Drivin' into Glesga on a soor milk cairt.

  

I raised her up beside me and we soon got on the crack,

I slipped my airm aroond her waist as by my side she sat,

I telt the auld, auld story as the woods around me rang,

Wi' the singing o' the mavis and the blackbird's cheery sang.



I've heard o' lads and lasses making love in shady bowers,

And hoo they woo'd and won amang the roses and the flowers,

But I' ne'er forget the morning wee Cupid threw his dart

And made me pop the question in the soor milk cairt.



Since the lassie has consented next term time cams roon,

I mean tae buy a harness plaid and a bonnie silken goon,

We're settlin' tae get marret just aboot next August fair,

When aw oor auld acquaintances I hope to see them there.



The lass had never had a hurl in a carriage aw her days,

Sae when that I proposed tae hae a coach and pair o' greys,

"Na, na " quo' she, "The siller's scarce, ye ken we canna spare't

And I'd rather hae the jooglin' o' the soor milk cairt."