Page:Beauties of Burn's poems.pdf/40

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Waesnak's for him that gets nae lass!
 Or lasses that hae naething!
Sma' need has he to say a grace,
 Or melvie his braw claithing.
O wives be mindfu', ance yoursel,
 How bonnie lads ve wanted,
And dinna, for a kebbeck-heel,
 Let lasses be affronted
On sic a day.

Now Clinkumbell, wi' rattlin tow,
 Begins to jow and croon;
Some stagger hame the best they dow,
 Some wait the afternoon.
At slaps the billies halt a blink,
 Till lasses slip their shoon,
Wi' faith and hope, and love and drink,
 They're a' in famous tune
For crack that day.

How monie hearts this day converts,
 O' sinners and o' lasses!
Their hearts o' stane gin night are gane,
 As saft as ony flesh is:
There's some are fou o' love divine,
 There's some are fou o' brandy;
And monie jobs that day begin,
 May end in houghmagandie
Some ither day.

 

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