The laird of Cockpen, he's proud And he's great, 
His mind is taken up with things of the State; 
He wanted a wife, his braw house to keep, 
But favour with wooing was fashious to seek.

Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell, 
At his table-head he thought she'd look well, 
M'Clish's sole daughter of Clavershall Lea, 
A penniless lass with a long pedigree.

His wig was well-powdered as good as when new, 
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue; 
He put on a ring, a sword, and cocked hat, 
And who could refuse the laird with all that?

He took the grey mare, and rode cannily, 
And rapped at the gate of Clavershall Lee; 
"Go tell Mistress Jean to come speedily in, 
She's wanted to speak to the Laird of Cockpen".

Mistress Jean was making the elderflower wine; 
"And what brings the laird at such a like time?" 
She put off her apron, and on her silk gown, 
Her mutch with red ribbons, and went away down.

And when she came in, she bowed full low, 
And what was his errand he soon let her know; 
Amazed was the laird when the lady said "Nay", 
And with a low curtsey she then turned away.

Dumfounded was he, but no sign did she see, 
He mounted his mare - he rode off cannily; 
And often he thought, as he rode through the glen, 
She's daft to refuse the Laird of Cockpen.

And now that the laird his exit had made, 
Mistress Jean reflected on what she had said; 
"Oh, for one I'll get better, it's worse I'll get ten, 
I was daft to refuse the Laird of Cockpen".

Next time that the Laird and the Lady was seen, 
They were going arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green; 
Now she sits in the hall like a weel-tappit hen, 
For now she is wed to the Laird of Cockpen.