The Song Book No. 4/My Love She's But a Lassie Yet
For other versions of this work, see My Love She's But a Lassie Yet.
MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET.
My love she's but a lassie yet,My love she's but a lassie yet,We'll let her stand an year or twaShe'll no be half sae sancy yet,
I rue the day I sought her OI rue the day I sought her O;Wha gets her need na say he's woo'd,But he may say he's bought her O
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet,Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet:Gae seek for pleasure whare you will,But here I never mist it yet.
We're a' dry wi' the drinking o't,We're a dry wi' the drinking o't,The minister kiss'd the fidler's wife,And couldna preach for thinking o't.