Come under my Plaidie (Edinburgh)/I loo'd ne'er a laddie but ane
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For other versions of this work, see The Contented Lover.
I LOO'D NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE.
⟨I⟩ loo'd ne'er a laddie but ane,
He loo'd ne'er a lassie but me;
⟨He's⟩ willing to mak me his ain,
And his ain I am willing to be.
⟨He⟩ has coft me a rokelay o' blue,
And a pair o' mittens o' green;
⟨The⟩ price was a kiss o' my mou',
And I paid him the debt yestreen.
He loo'd ne'er a lassie but me;
⟨He's⟩ willing to mak me his ain,
And his ain I am willing to be.
⟨He⟩ has coft me a rokelay o' blue,
And a pair o' mittens o' green;
⟨The⟩ price was a kiss o' my mou',
And I paid him the debt yestreen.
⟨Let⟩ ither's brag weel o' their gear,
Their land, and their lordlie degree;
⟨I carena⟩ for ought but my dear,
For he's ilka thing lordlie to me:
⟨His⟩ words are sae sugar'd, sae sweet!
His sense drives ilk fear far awa!
⟨I listen⟩—poor fool! and I greet,
Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'.
Their land, and their lordlie degree;
⟨I carena⟩ for ought but my dear,
For he's ilka thing lordlie to me:
⟨His⟩ words are sae sugar'd, sae sweet!
His sense drives ilk fear far awa!
⟨I listen⟩—poor fool! and I greet,
Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'.
⟨Dear⟩ lassie. he cries wi' a jeer,
⟨Ne'er⟩ heed what the auld anes will say,
⟨Tho'⟩ we've little to brag o'—ne'er fear;
What's gowd to a heart that is wae?
Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
Yet see how he's dwining wi' care;
Now we, tho' we've naething but health,
Are cantie and leal evermair.
⟨Ne'er⟩ heed what the auld anes will say,
⟨Tho'⟩ we've little to brag o'—ne'er fear;
What's gowd to a heart that is wae?
Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
Yet see how he's dwining wi' care;
Now we, tho' we've naething but health,
Are cantie and leal evermair.
O Marion! the heart that is true
Has something mair costly than gear;
Ilk e'en it has naething to rue;
Ilk morn it has naething to fear.
Ye warldlings, gae hoard up your store,
And tremble for fear ought ye tyne;
Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar and door,
While here in my arms I lock mine.
Has something mair costly than gear;
Ilk e'en it has naething to rue;
Ilk morn it has naething to fear.
Ye warldlings, gae hoard up your store,
And tremble for fear ought ye tyne;
Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar and door,
While here in my arms I lock mine.
He ends wi' a kiss and a smile—
Waes me! can I tak it amiss!
My laddie's unpractisd in guile,
He's free ay to daut and to kiss!
Ye lassies wha loo to torment
Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
Play your pranks; I hae gien my consent
And this night I am Jamie's for life.
Waes me! can I tak it amiss!
My laddie's unpractisd in guile,
He's free ay to daut and to kiss!
Ye lassies wha loo to torment
Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
Play your pranks; I hae gien my consent
And this night I am Jamie's for life.
FINIS.