Of modest maids in simple weeds, I've nothing for to say man, But against the game of hawking wench, I'll tell you and you'll stay man. And ye busk sae bra' lassie, and ye busk sae bra', The lads will crack your maidenhead, and that's against the law.
I view them aft come to the church, with meal upon their hair man; Whom I have seen in former times, with back and buttocks bare man. O do not look so high lassie, O do not look so high, You'll mind your mither was but poor tho' now you drink your tea.
Those dirty maids come to the church, holding their mouths so mim man, Like riddle rims their tails go round, fine coats stript in the loom man. O vow but ye be vogie lassie, O vow but ye be vogie, You're proud to wear that whorelike coat, its name is gowf my logie.
I laugh to see them come to fairs, with whalebone stay's it's queer man, So foolishly they are primpt up, like sunks upon a mare man. O gin ye be trig lassie, O gin ye be trig, The whalebone keeps their belly back, and yet it may turn big.
With stamingers into their breasts, their bubbies they do crush man, Which makes them jimp about the middle, and big where ye wad wish man. O soon ye learn the trade lassie, O soon ye learn the trade, About fifteen you are sae keen, as venture to the bed.
With ribbons rare and other ware, they're primpet up sae nice man, They loftily do cock their heads, even as their docks gat spice man. O well does thou incline lassie, O well does thou incline, To dance the blanket hornpipe, as minnie did langsyne.
Our Ladies now we do not know, tho' they busk ne'er sae bra' man, Our servant maids does wear the same, we think they're ladies a' man. O what needs a' this pride lassie, O what needs a' this pride, To wear your best clothes ev'ry day, and what when you're a bride.
Some think their maiden-head will spoil, before young men come near man, It's pain to keep, it's like a boil, 'tis duty them to clear man. O hute awa' wi' pride lassie, O hute awa' wi' pride, It's that, that makes young men go by, they'll no mak you their bride.
So all young men that want a wife, take warning by their look man, Love not a lass that casts her head, about like a game cock man. O well I know I their eye lassie, O well know I their eye, They'll vex a man and chap his pan, his head they'll hornifie
So beware when Maggy Idle comes, a fooling to the fair man, If you incline she will resign, the whole use of her ware man. And she draw you on laddie, and she draw you on, She'll burn you wi' her merry bit, and then you'll sigh and moan.
