Jim Crow/Hey for a lass wi' a tocher
HEY FOR A LASS WI' A TOCHER.
Awa wi’ your witchcraft o’ beauty’s alarms,
The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms,
O gie me the lass that has acres o’ charms,
O gie me the lass wi the weel stockit farms.
Then hey for a lass wi’ a tocher,
Then hey for a lass wi a tocher
Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher,
The nice yellow guineas for me.
Your beauty’s a flower in the morning that blows,
And withers the faster, the faster it grows:
But the rapturous charm o’ the bonny green knowes,
Ilk spring they’re new decked wi’ bonny white yowes.
Then hey, &c.
And e’en when this beauty your bosom has blest,
The brightest o’ beauty may cloy when possest;
But the sweet yellow darlings wi’ Geordie imprest,
The langer ye hae them—the mair they’re carest.
Then hey &c