O tell me the way for to woo/Daintie Davie

DAINTIE DAVIE.

The lasses fain wad hae frae me
A sang to keep them a' in glee,
While ne’er a ane I hae to gie,
But only Daintie Davie.
I learn’d it early in my youth,
When barley bannocks caused a drouth;
Whar cronies met to weet their mouth,
Our sang was Daintie Davie.

O, Daintie Davie is the thing,
I never kent a cantie spring,
That e’er deserv’d the highland fling,
Sae sweet as Daintie Davie.

When friends and fo’k at bridals' meet,
Their drouthie mou’s and craigs to weet,
The story canna be complete
Without they've Daintie Davie.
Sae lasses tune your spinnets weel,
And lilt it up wi’ a‘ your skill,
There’s nae strathspey nor highland reel,
Comes up to Daintie Davie.
O, Daintie Davie, &c.

Tho’ bardies a’, in former times,
Hae stain’d my sang, wae worth their rhymes!
They had but little mense, wi’ crimes,
To blast my Daintie Davie.
The rankest weeds the garden spoil,
When labour taks the play a while;
The lamp gaes out for want o‘ oil,
And sae it far’d wi' Davie.
O, Daintie Davie, &c.

There's ne’er a bar but what’s complete,
While ilka note is ay so sweet,
That auld and young get to their feet,
When they hear Daintie Davie.
Until the latest hour of time,
When music a‘ her power shall tine,
Each hill, and dale, and grove, shall ring
Wi’ bonnie Daintie Davie.
O, Daintie Davie, &c.