THERE'S news, lassies, news, <br />Gude news I've to tell! <br />There's a boatfu' o' lads <br />Come to our town to sell. <br /> <br /> <br />Chorus.—The wean wants a cradle, <br />And the cradle wants a cod: <br />I'll no gang to my bed, <br />Until I get a nod. <br /> <br /> <br />Father, quo' she, Mither, quo she, <br />Do what you can, <br />I'll no gang to my bed, <br />Until I get a man. <br />The wean, &c. <br /> <br /> <br />I hae as gude a craft rig <br />As made o'yird and stane; <br />And waly fa' the ley-crap, <br />For I maun till'd again. <br />The wean, &c.<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/news-lassies-news/