The Bridal Garter Poem by Richard Blakeborough

Traditional

Here's health to t' lass whea donn'd this band
To grace her leg,
An' ivvery garter'd braade i' t' land:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

Aroond her leg it has been bun',
I wish I'd bun' it.
A trimmer limb could nut be fun':
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

May ivvery yan at lifts his glass
To this faane band
Uphod he gans wi' t' best-like lass:
Sae sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

Frae wrist to wrist this band we pass,
As han' clasps han';
I' turn we through it draw each glass:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

An' here's tiv her at fast did weer
A braadal band
Bun' roond her leg; gie her a cheer:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it doon your wizan.

An' here's to Venus; let us beg
A boon at she
Will gie each braade a pattern leg:
Sea sip it, an' tip it, bud tip it do on your wizan.