BESSY BELL, AND MARY GRAY.
O Bessy Bell and Mary Gray,
They were twa bonnie lasses;
They bigg’d a house on yon burn brae,
And theek’d it o'er wi’ rashes
Fair Bessy Bell I ⟨lov'd⟩ yestreen,
And thought I ne’er could alter;
But Mary Gray’s twa pawky een,
They gar my fancy falter.
Now Bessy s hair's like a lint=tap,
She smiles like a May morning,
When Phœbus darts frae Thetis' lap,
The hills with rays adorning:
White is her neck, saft is her hand,
Her waist and feet's fu‘ genty;
With ilka grace she can command,
Her lips, O wow, they’re dainty.
And Mary's locks are like a craw,
Her een like diamonds glances:
She’s ay sae clean, redd up, and braw,
She kills whene’er she dances;
Blythe as a kid, with wit at will,
She blooming, tight, and tall is,
And guides her airs sae gracefu’ still,
O Jove, she’s like my Pallas.
