( 5 )
Tis no 'cauſe her cheeks are like roſes,
nor yet for her dark rollin' e'e,
'Tis no for her ſweet comely features,
theſe charms are naething to me
The ſtorms o life may ſoon blaſt them,
or ſickneſs make them fade away;
But virtue, when fix'd in the boſom,
will flouriſh, and never decay.
Nae langer I'll ſpend a' my ſister,
nae langer I'll now ly my land,
Nae langer I'll hunt after hizzies,
I'll ſoon ha'e a wife o' my ain
For mony wild foot I ha'e wander'd,
and mony lang night ſpent in vain,
Wi' drinkin' and dancin', and courtin',
but I'll ſoon ha'e a wife o' my ain.
Her mither's ay flytin' and roarin',
I rede you tak' tent o' that chiel;
He'll no be that canny to live wi',
he'll ne'er be like douſe Geordy Steel,
He's courted wi' o'er mony laſſes,
to ſlight them he thinks it gude fun;
He'll mak' but a ſober ha'f-marrow,
ye'll beſt rue before ye be bound.
