Bony Jean of Aberdeen (1815, Falkirk)/Bess is but a Gawkie
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For other versions of this work, see Bess the Gawkie.
BESS IS BUT A GAWKIE.
Blyth young Bess to Jean did sae,
Will ye gang to yon sunny brae,
Where flocks do feed, and herds do stray
And sport a while wi' Jamie?
Will ye gang to yon sunny brae,
Where flocks do feed, and herds do stray
And sport a while wi' Jamie?
Ah na, lass, I'll no gang there,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
For he's ta'en up wi' Maggie.
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
For he's ta'en up wi' Maggie.
For hark, and I will tell you, lass,
Did I not see your Jamie pass,
Wi' mickle blythness in his face,
Out o'er the moor to Maggie?
Did I not see your Jamie pass,
Wi' mickle blythness in his face,
Out o'er the moor to Maggie?
I wat he gave her mony a kiss,
And Maggie took them ne'er amiss;
'Tween ilka smack pleas'd her wi' this,
That Bess was but a gawkie.
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?
She turns her head, and thraws her cheek,
And for an hour she'll scarcely speak,
Who'd not call her a gawkie?
But sure my Maggie has mair sense,
She'll gi'e a score without offence,
Now give me one unto the mense,
And ye shall be my dawtie.
She'll gi'e a score without offence,
Now give me one unto the mense,
And ye shall be my dawtie.
O Jamie ye ha'e mony ta'en,
But I will ne'er stand up for ane,
Or twa, when we do meet again,
Sae ne'er think me a gawkie.
But I will ne'er stand up for ane,
Or twa, when we do meet again,
Sae ne'er think me a gawkie.
Ah na, lass, that cannot be,
Sick thoughts as these are far frae me,
Or ony thy sweet face that see,
Ere, to think thee a gawkie.
Sick thoughts as these are far frae me,
Or ony thy sweet face that see,
Ere, to think thee a gawkie.
But whisht, nae mair of this we'll speak,
For yonder Jamie does us meet,
Instead of Meg he kiss'd sae sweet,
I trow he likes the gawkie.
For yonder Jamie does us meet,
Instead of Meg he kiss'd sae sweet,
I trow he likes the gawkie.
O dear Bess, I hardly knew,
When I came, your gown's sae new,
I think you've got it wet with dew;
Quoth Bess, that's like a gawkie.
When I came, your gown's sae new,
I think you've got it wet with dew;
Quoth Bess, that's like a gawkie.
It's wet with dew, and 'twill get rain,
And I'll get gowns when this is gane,
Sae ye may gang the gate ye came,
And tell it to your dawtie.
And I'll get gowns when this is gane,
Sae ye may gang the gate ye came,
And tell it to your dawtie.
The guilt appear'd on Jamie's cheek,
He cry'd, O cruel maid, but sweet,
If I should gang another gate,
I ne'er could meet my dawtie.
He cry'd, O cruel maid, but sweet,
If I should gang another gate,
I ne'er could meet my dawtie.
The lasses fast frae him they flew,
And left poor Jamie fair to rue,
That ever Maggie's face he knew,
Or yet ca'd Bess a gawkie.
And left poor Jamie fair to rue,
That ever Maggie's face he knew,
Or yet ca'd Bess a gawkie.
As they went o'er the moor they sang,
The hills and dales with echoes rang,
The hills and dales with echoes rang,
Gan o'er the moor to Maggie.
The hills and dales with echoes rang,
The hills and dales with echoes rang,
Gan o'er the moor to Maggie.