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I wat he gae her meny a kiss,
And Maggie took them ne'er amiss,
'Tween ilka smack pleas'd her wi' this,
That Bess was but a Gawkie.
For whene’er a civil kiss I seek,
She turns her head, and thraws her cheek,
And for an hour she’ll scarcely speak,
Who’d not call her a Gawkie?
B(illegible text) sure my Maggie has mair sense,
She’ll gie a scare without offence,
Now gie me ane unto the mense.
And ye shall be my datie.
O Jamie ye hae mony taen,
But I will ne’er stand up for ane,
Or twa till we do meet again,
Sae ne’er think me a gawkie.
Ah na lass, that cannot be.
Sic thoughts as these are far from me,
Wi’ (illegible text)ny thy sweet face that see,
E’er to think thee a gawkie.
But whisht nae mair o’ this we’ll speak,
For yonder Jamie does us meet,
Instead of Meg he kiss’d sae sweet,
I trow he likes the gawkie.
