Maggie! quoth he; and, by my bags,
I'm fidgin' fain to see thee!
Sit doun by me, my bonnie bird;
In troth I winna 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 blaw up my chanter.

Piper, quo Meg, hae ye your bags,
Or is your drone in order?
If ye be Rob, I've heard o' you;
Live you upo' the Border?
The lasses a', baith far and near,
Have heard o' Rob the Ranter;
I'll shake my foot wi' richt gude will,
Gif ye'll blaw up your chanter.

Then to his bags he flew wi' speed;
About the drone he twisted:
Meg up and wallop'd ower the green;
For brawly could she frisk itl
Weel done! quo he. Play up! quo she.
Weel bobb'd! quo Rob the Ranter;
It's worth my while to play, indeed,
When I hae sic a dancer!

Weel hae ye play'd your part! quo Meg;
Your cheeks are like the crimsonl
There's nane in Scotland plays sae weel,
Sin' we lost Habbie Simson.
I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife,
This ten years and a quarter;
Gin ye should come to Anster Fair,
Spier ye for Maggie Lauder.