The Book of Scottish Song/The bashfu' Wooer
The bashfu’ Wooer.
[Anderson.—Air, "Dainty Davie."]
Whene'er ye come to woo me, Tam,
Dinna at the window tap,
Or cough, or hem, or gi'e a clap,
To let my father hear, man:
He's auld and fail'd and wants his sleep,
Sae by the hallan saftly creep,
Ye needna watch, and glowr, and peep,
I'll meet you, never fear, man.
If a lassie ye wad win,
Be cheerfu' ever, bashifu' never;
Ilka Jock may get a Jean,
If he has sense to try, man.
Whene'er we at the market meet,
Dinna look like ane hauf daft,
Or talk about the cauld an heat,
As ye were weather-wise, man.
Haud up your head, and bauldly speak,
And keep the blushes frae your cheek,
For he wha has his tale to seek,
We lasses a' despise, man.
If a lassie, &c.
I met you lately a' your lane,
Ye seem'd like ane stown frae the dead,
Your teeth e'en chattered in your head,
But ne'er a word o' love, man;
I spak', ye look'd anither way,
Then trembled as ye'd got a flay,
And owre your shouther cried, "gude day,"
Nor ance to win me strave, man.
If a lassie, &c.
My aunty left me threescore poun',
But deil a ane o' a' the men
Till then did bare-legg'd Elspa ken,
Or car'd a strae for me, man;
Now tugging at me soon and late.
They're cleeking but the yellow bait.
Sae mind me, Tam, I needna wait,
When I ha'e choice o' three, man.
If a lassie, &c.
There lives a lad owre yonder muir,
He has nae faut but ane—he's puir;
Whene'er we meet, wi' kisses sweet
He's like to be my death, man:
And there's a lad ahint yon trees,
Wad waud for me aboon the knees;
Sae tell your mind, or, if you please,
Nae langer fash us baith, man.
If a lassie, &c.