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Let art an' let nature display their proud treasures,
Let paradise boast o' what ance it could gi'e;
My riches are greater, mair sweet are my pleasures.
In the heart-meltin' blink o' my lassie's blue e'e.

Jenny's Barbee.

I met four chaps yon birks amang,
Wi' hanging lugs and faces lang;
I spier'd at neibour Baldy Strang,
What are these we see?
Quoth he, ilk cream-fac'd pawky chiel'
Thinks himsel cunnin' as the de'il,
And here they cam' awa' to steal
Jenny's bawbee.

The first, a captain to his trade,
Wi' ill-lin'd scull, and back weel clad,
March'd round the barn, and by the shed,
And papped on his knee:
Quoth he, my goddess, nymph and queen,
Your beauty's dazzled baith my een!
But de'il a beauty he had seen
But Jenny's bawbee.

A Norland laird neist trotted up,

Wi' bassen'd naig and siller whip!