1.
When Eighty-five was seven months auld
And wearing thro' the aught,
When rolling rains and Boreas bauld
Gied farmer-folks a faught;
Ae morning quondam Mason W …..,
Now Merchant Master Miller,
Gaed down to meet wi' Nansie B ….,
And her Jamaica siller
To wed, that day.
2.
The rising sun o'er Blacksideen
Was just appearing fairly,
When Nell and Bess got up to dress
Seven lang half-hours o'er early!
Now presses clink, and drawers jink,
For linens and for laces:
But modest Muses only think
What ladies' underdress is
On sic a day!
3.
But we'll suppose the stays are lac'd,
And bonie bosoms steekit,
Tho' thro' the lawn - but guess the rest!
An angel scarce durst keek it.
Then stockins fine o' silken twine
Wi' cannie care are drawn up;
An' garten'd tight whare mortal wight -
4.
But now the gown wi' rustling sound
Its silken pomp displays;
Sure there's nae sin in being vain
O' siccan bonie claes!
Sae jimp the waist, the tail sae vast -
Trouth, they were bonie birdies!
O Mither Eve, ye wad been grieve
To see their ample hurdies
Sae large that day!
5.
Then Sandy, wi's red jacket braw,
Comes whip-jee-woa! about,
And in he gets the bonie twa -
Lord, send them safely out!
And auld John Trot wi' sober phiz,
As braid and braw's a Bailie,
His shouthers and his Sunday's jiz
Wi' powther and wi' ulzie
Weel smear'd that day.

When Eighty-five was seven months old
And wearing through the eight,
When rolling rains and Boreas (north wind) bold
Gave farmer people a fight;
One morning former Mason W …..,
Now Merchant Master Miller,
Went down to meet with Nansie B ….,
And her Jamaica money
To wed, that day.

The rising sun over Blacksideen
Was just appearing fairly,
When Nell and Bess got up to dress
Seven long half-hours too early!
Now cupboards clink, and drawers move swiftly,
For linens and for laces:
But modest Muses only think
What ladies' underdress is
On such a day!

But we will suppose the stays are laced,
And lovely bosoms stitched (covered),
Though through the lawn - but guess the rest!
An angel scarce dare to spy it.
Then stockings fine of silken thread
With prudent care are drawn up;
An garters made tight where mortal person -

But now the gown with rustling sound
Its silken pomp displays;
Sure there is no sin in being vain
On such very lovely clothes!
So elegant the waist, the tail so vast -
Truth, they were lovely maidens!
O Mother Eve, you would have been grieved
To see their ample posteriors
So large that day!

Then Sandy, with his red jacket handsome,
Comes whip-jee-woa! about,
And in he gets the lovely two -
Lord, send them safely out!
And old John Trot with sober face,
As broad and handsome as a Bailie,
His shoulders and his Sunday's wig
With powder and with oil
Well smeared that day.