7
Bift bear ye me now, and tak my advice.
Least ye for your whistle gi‘e o'er big a price;
Gae daunrin awa when your freedom's your' ain,
'For whiskey's a tyrant, his pleasure are vain.
HEY FOR A LASS WI‘ A TOCHER
AWA wi‘ your witchcraft o‘ beasty's alarms,
The slender bit beauty yon 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 bonie green knowe,
Ilk spring they're new deckit wi‘ bonie white yewes,
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 dailings wi' Geordie imprest,
The longer ye hae them, the mair they're carest.
Then hey,&c.
SANDY O'ER THE LEE.
WINNA marry ony man but Sandy o'er the lee;
