( 8 ) On her fair leg, forbade to shine, Well shapen native graces.
Ae little coat and bodice white, Was some of a’ her claithing; Even thae’s o’er mekile ; mair delyte, She’d given cled wi’ naithing, She lean'd upon a flowry brae, By which a burnie trotted ; On her I glowr’d my saul away, While on her sweets I doted.
A thousand beauties of desert, Before had scarce alarm’d me, Till this dear artless struck my heart, and bot designing, charm’d me. Hurray’d by love, close to my breast I grasped this found of blisses : Wha smil’d, and said, without a priest, Sir, hope for nought but kisses.
I hade nae heart to do her harm. And yet I cou’dna want her , What she demanded, ilka charm, Of hers pled, I shou’d grant her. Since heaven had dealt to me a trowth, Straight to the kirk I led her. There plighting her my faith and trowth, And a young lady made her.
FINIS.
