Bonny lass of Banaphie (1)/Hap me wi' thy Petticoat

HAP ME WITH THY PETTICOAT.

O Bell thy looks have kill'd my heart,
I pass the day in pain!
When night returns I feel the smart,
and wish for thee in vain;
I'm starving cold, while thou art warm;
have pity and incline,
And grant me for a hap that charm-
ing petticoat of thine.

My ravish'd fancy in amaze
still wanders o'er thy charms,
Delusive dreams ten thousand ways
present thee to my arms!

But waking, think what I endure,
while cruel you decline
Those pleasures, which can only cure
this panting breast of mine.

I faint I fail, and wildly rove,
because you still deny
The just reward that's due to love,
and let true passion die.
Oh! turn and let compassion seize
that lovely breast of thine;
Thy petticoat would give me ease,
if thou and it were mine.

Sure Heaven has fitt d for delight
that beauteous form of thine,
And thou'rt too good its law to slight,
by hind'ring the design:
May all the powers of love agree
at length to make thee mine.
Or loose my chains and set me free
from ev'ry charm of thine.

FINIS.

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Falkirk—T. Johnston, Printer.