8
The next & fiddle they do want,
Say they, we'll have a clever rant;
Then bid them for to chust their spring,
One's Dainty Davie—ony thing. &c.
They dance and loup as they were daft,
And are like to ding down the last;
They dance till they are out of breath,
And to leave it are very laith. O rare, &c.
The Lasses say they must away,
Because they dare no longer stay;
O, says the Lads stay yet a while,
And we will go with you a mile. O rare, &c.
Then homeward they do a'eer again,
The Lads have nothing for their pain,
But now their money is all gone. (&c.
Which makes them rue when they come home,
The Lasses will laugh at them now,
And say they ne'er had kiss'd their mou',
And to their neighbours they will tell,
What they have done among themsell. &c.
Thus never more I do intend,
My money on a whore to spend,
But stay at home and work my wark,
And never kiss more in the dark.
FINIS.
