6
Alternate join'd the bowl an' glasses;
To drink and crack, baith lads and lassies,
An' Bess, I trow, might bauldly boast,
That night she was the greatest toast,
For wi' the chiels she gat na slackin',
For dancin', walkin', an' for crackin'
When Davie saw her way say winnin'
An' a' the chaps about her rinnin',
A racking love-pain dirl'd within him,
Yet reason coudna' ha'd nor bin' him.
Tho' stung wi' guilt, an' blate wi' shame,
He wished to share her smiles wi' them,
Sae, with fear, hope, and agitation,
Gae her a kindly invitation.
She paused and hankert-he insisted,
So down by Davie's side she rested,
About themsel's he turned the talk,
An' even proposed a private wal'
While Bessie heard and said but little,
An' seemed to care it not a spittle,-
Sax minutes time did scarcely pass;
When 'twas his turn to tak' the glass,
An' notice, while the punch he sipped
Sly in his pouch; the Pill she slipped;
Quick up wi' majesty she started,
An' bouncin' to the floor she airted,
Whence back wi' her a spark came prancin',
An' gart her wi' him fa' a dancin'.
Poor Davie blushed-and ye could trace
The rainbow colours flush his face,
He naething said but pensive sat,
Reflecting he'd got tit for tat;
An' whiles by stealth with envy keekit
At ilk blythe blade an' Bessie cleekit;
Thought them halesale his mortal foes,
An' keenly felt foreboding woes.-
He tried to hate her but in vain,-
