Banks of Forth/Bet Sweet Blossom
BET SWEET BLOSSOM.
No more I'll court the town-bred fair,
Who shines in artificial beauty;
For native charms without compare,
Claim all my love, respect, and duta.
Oh! my bonny Bet, sweet blossom
Was I a king so proud to wear thee,
From off the verdant couch I'd bear thee,
To grace thy faithful lover's bosom
Yet ask me where those beauties lie
I cannot say in smile or dimple,
In blooming cheek or redient eye,
'Tis happy nature wild and simple.
Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.
Let dainty beaux for ladies pine,
And sigh in numbers trite and common;
Ye gods! one darling wish be mine,
And all I ask is lovely woman.
Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.
Come dearest girl the rosy bowl,
Like thy bright eye with pleasure dancing;
My heaven art thou so take my soul,
With rapture every sense entrancing.
Oh! my bonny Bet, &c.