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THE BLYTHSOME BRIDAL. 149
And there '11 be Girnagain Gibbie,
And bis glaikit wife Jeanie Bell,
And mizly-chinned flytin' Geordie,
The lad tbat was skipper bimsel.
Tbere '11 be a' the lads and the lasses,
Set down in the mids o' the ha' ;
Wi' sybows, and reefarts, and carlins,
That are baith sodden and raw.
There '11 be tarten, dragen, and brachen,
And fouth o' guid gabbocks o' skate,
Powsoudie, and drammock, and crowdie,
And caller nowt-i'eet on a plate ;
And there '11 be partans and buckies,
And speldins and haddocks enew,
And singit sheep-heads and a haggis,
And scadlips to sup till ye 're fou.
There '11 be guid lapper-milk kebbucks,
And sowens, and farles, and baps,
Wi' swats and weel-scraped painehes,
And brandy in stoups and in caups ;
And there '11 be meal-kail and castocks,
Wi' skink to sup till ye rive ;
And roasts to roast on a brander,
Of flouks that were taken alive.
Scraped haddocks, wilks, dulse and tangle,
And a mill o' guid sneeshin' to prie ;
When weary wi' eatin' and drinkin',
We '11 rise up and dance till we dee.
Fy let us a' to the bridal,
For there'll be liltin' there ;
For Jock 's to be married to Maggie,
The lass wi' the gowden hair.
This singular piece appeared first in Watson's Collection of

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