Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
Maggie Lauder
By Francis SempleW
Wi’ bonnie Maggie Lauder?
A piper met her gaun to Fife,
And speired what was ’t they ca’d her.
Right scornfully she answered him,
“Begone, you hallanshaker!
Jog on your gate, you bladderskate!
My name is Maggie Lauder.”
I ’m fidgin’ fain to see thee;
Sit down by me, my bonnie bird,
In troth I witma steer thee;
For I ’m a piper to my trade,
My name is Rob the Ranter;
The lasses loup as they were daft
When I blow up my chanter.”
Or is your drone in order?
If ye be Rob, I ’ve heard of you,—
Live you upo’ the Border?
The lasses a’, baith far and near,
Hae heard o’ Rob the Ranter;
I ’ll shake my foot with right gude-will,
Gif you ’ll blow up your chanter.”
About the drone he twisted;
Meg up and walloped o’er the green,
For brawly could she frisk it.
“Weel done!” quo’ he. “Play up!” quo’ she.
“Weel bobbed,” quo’ Rob the Ranter;
“’T is worth my while to play indeed
When I hae sic a dancer.”
“Your cheeks are like the crimson;
There ’s nane in Scotland plays sae weel
Since we lost Habbie Simpson.
I ’ve lived in Fife, baith maid and wife,
These ten years and a quarter;
Gin’ ye should come to Ansler Fair,
Speir ye for Maggie Lauder.”