Twas within a furlong of Edinborough town, in the rosy time of year, when the grass was down; bonny Jocky, blithe and gay, said to Jenny making hay, Let us sit a little (dear) and prattle, 'tis a sultry day. He long had courted the black-browed maid, but Jocky was a wag and would ne'er consent to wed; which made her pish and phoo, and cry out, It will not do, I cannot, cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot buckle too. He told her marriage was grown a mere joke, and that no-one wedded now, but the scoundrel folk, Yet, my dear, thou should'st prevail, but I know not what I ail, I shall dream of clogs, and silly dogs with bottles at their tail; but I'll give thee gloves and a bongrace to wear, and a pretty filly-foal, to ride out and take the air, if thou ne'er wilt pish nor phoo, and cry it ne'er shall do, I cannot, cannot, cannot, wonnot, wonnot buckle too.