Sweet Lass, I approve o' your plan, l think that you're wise for to knit, An' buckle yoursel' to a man; for kissing it's now you are fit. What tho' you've silks for to dress you, an' plenty o' baith roast an' raw, Yet you want a bit man for to kiss you, an' keep your cauld back frae the war.
We'll kiss an‘ cuddle, an' a', cuddle, an' kiss, an' a'; An’ ance we were buckl'd the gither, our joys they sha’ nae be sma'!
To hear how that ithers get marry’d, an’ ye sit an' rive at your tow, I'm sure it’s of life you are weary’d, wish wheel an’ it a in a low! The pain you endure thro’ the night, it makes you to tumble an’ gaunt; But young Andrew he’s baith blyth an’ tight, an' weel can supply your bit want. We'll kiss, &c.
At e'en when ye came wi' your stocking, you thought I was wond roun flack, Tho' aften ay jeering an' jocking, an whiles your bit (illegible text) I did smack. As on the green grass we did tumble, O how thy bit heart it did pant! Thou ne‘er gied a peep nor a grumble, while I did supply your bit want. We'll kiss, &c.
At e'en when I rise to gae hame, were ye to gi‘e me a convoy, As sure as young Andrew's my name, in love we'll each other enjoy. Then lassie I'll ay be thine ain, of me ye may loftily vaunt; I'll ease thee o'thy grief an' pain, an‘ always supply thy bit want. We'll kiss &c.
Wi‘ joy it's she bang‘d out her han‘, your offer, dear love, I accept; I vow that young Andrew's the man I always will daut like a pet. Thou joys of joys I'll taste! for which I've gi‘en mony a gaent: By young Andrew it's now I'm embrac'd, an' weel he supplies my bit want.
We'll kiss, an' cuddle, an' a‘, cuddle, an' kiss an' a‘; It's now we're firm buckl'd thegither, share joys the largest o' a.
