8
Let ithers brag weel o' their gear.
Their land, and their lordlie degree;
I carena for ought but my dear,
For he's ilka thing lordlie to me.
His words are sae sugar d, sae sweet,
His sense drives ilk fear far awa!
I listen, poor fool, and I greet,
Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa!
Dear lassie, he cries wi' a jeer,
Ne'er heed what the auid anes will say,
Tho' we've little to brag o', ne'er fear;
What's gowd to a heart that is wae/
Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
Ye see how he's dwining wi' care,
Now we, though we've naithing but health,
Are cantie and leel evermair.
He ends wi' a kiss and a smile,
Waes me! can I tak it amiss!
My laddie s unpractis'd in guile.
He's free ay to daut and to kiss.
Ye las'ies wha loo to torment
Your wooers wi' fause scorn and pride;
Pay your pranks, I hae gien my consent—
This night I am Jamie's for life.
FINIS
