At Willie's weddin' o' the green, <br />The lasses, bonnie witches, <br />Were busked out in aprons clean, <br />And snaw-white Sunday mutches; <br />Auld Mysie bade the lads tak' tent, <br />But Jock wad na believe her; <br />But soon the fool his folly kent, <br />For Jenny dang the weaver. <br /> <br />In ilka country dance and reel <br />Wi' her he wad be babbin'; <br />When she sat down, then he sat down, <br />And till her wad be gabbin'; <br />Where'er she gaed, or butt or ben, <br />The coof wad never leave her, <br />Aye cacklin' like a clockin' hen, <br />But Jenny dang the weaver. <br /> <br />Quoth he, My lass, to speak my mind, <br />In troth I needna swither, <br />Ye 've bonnie e'en, and, gif ye 're kind, <br />I needna court anither! <br />He humm'd and haw'd, the lass cried 'pheugh,' <br />And bade the coof no deave her, <br />Syne crack'd her thumb, and lap and leugh, <br />And dang the silly weaver.<br /><br />Alexander Boswell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jenny-s-dang-the-weaver/
