The Buckie Wife

When I was a laddie in Auld Reekie toon,
I looked for the buckie wife comin' aroon,
Wi' a creel on her back and a strap tae her broo;
In each hand a pitcher of mussels quite fu'.

CHORUS:  Fine buckies!  Fine buckies!  Noo that was her cry.
         Fresh mussels the day O!  Please come and buy.

Her red-strippit dress was sae bonny and braw,
Up fae Newhaven or far Fisher Raw,
Her bright buckled shuin and her wares fae the sea -
And followed by bairnies a' jumpin' wi' glee.

A' shoutin for buckies as roond her were seen
Each wi' a poke and a wee tiny peen.
If we wanted mussels, wi' spoons there we ate,
And supped them a' up fae oot o' a plate.

And late at night when the pubs a' shut doon
It's there she'd be found at the tap o' the toon;
Wi' drunks all aroon when the hunger did gnaw,
Fair gled o' her wares fae far Fisherraw.

But alas and alack, noo the sight is quite rare,
Yon frienly fish-wife I will see here nae mair,
With the passin o' time nae mair will be seen
The buckies, the mussels, the wee tiny peen.

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin