with critical observations and biographical notices, by Robert Burns

168
For bridal days are merry times,
And young folks like the coming o%
And scribblers they bang up their rhymes.
And pipers they the bumming o't.
The lasses like a bridal o't,
The lasses like a bridal o't,
Their braws maun be in rank and file,
Altho' that they should guide ill o't
The boddom o* the kist is then
Turn'd up unto the inmost o't.
The end that held the kecks sae clean.
Is now become the teeniest o't.
The bangster at the threshing o't.
The bangster at the threshing o't.
Afore it comes is fidgin fain.
And ilka day's a clashing o't
He'll sell his jerkin for a groat,
His linder for anither o't.
And e'er he want to clear his shot,
His sark'U pay the tither o't.
The pipers and the fiddlers o't,
The pipers and the fiddlers o't.
Can smell a bridal unco far.
And like to be the middlers o't