CORN RIGS ARE BONNY.
My Patie is a lover gay,
His mind is never muddy;
His breath is sweeter than new hay,
His face is fair and ruddy;
His shape is handsome, middle size,
He’s stately in his walking,
The shining of his een surprise,
'Tis heav’n to hear him talking.
Last night I met him on a bank
Where yellow corn was growin'
There mony a kindly word he spak
That set my heart a glowing:
Ee kiss’d and vow'd he wad be mine,
And lov'd me best of ony;
That gars me like to sing sinsyne,
"O corn rigs are bonny!
Let maidens of a silly mind
Refuse what maist the're wanting;
Since we for yielding are design'd,
We chastely should be granting:
Then I'll comply and marry Pate
In spite of dad an mammy,
And cheerfully resign my fate
Where corn rigs are bonny.