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But gie me a cannie hour at e'en,
My arms about my dearie, O,
And wardly cares and wardly men,
May a' gae tapsalteerie O.
For you sae douse who sneer at this,
Ye're nought but senseless asses, O,
The wisest mas the warld e'er saw,
He dearly lov'd the lanes, O.
Auld Nature swears the lovely dears,
Her noblest work she classes, O,
Her prentice hand she tried on man,
And then she made the lasses. O.
FINIS.
