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Rh O let me lie within your breaſt: Add at your dainty tazle feaſt: Well do I like your goud to finger, And ſit to her your ſt—ſs Singer. While on thus ſun ſide o' the brae, Belongs to you, my limbs I'll lay
 * Roſie. I own, ſweet Sir, ye woo me frankly,

But a' your courtſhip ſars ſae rankly, Of selfiſh intereſt, that I'm flead, My perſon leaſt employs your head.
 * Joukum What a diſtinction's this your making

When your poor lover's heart is breaking; With little logic I can thew, That every thing you have is you: Beſides the beauties of your perſon, Theſe beds of flowers you ſet your a--e on, Your claiths, your lands, and lying pelf, Are every ane your very self, And add freſh luſture to theſe graces, With which adorn'd your ſaul and face is.
 * Roſie. Ye ſeem to have a loving flame

For me, and hate your native hame; That gars me ergh to truſt you meikle, For fear you ſhou'd prove falſe and fickle.
 * Joukum. I troth my rugged billy Briſtle,

About his gentrie makes ſic fiſtle, That if a body contradict him He's ready with a durk to ſtick him; That wearies me of hame I vow, And fain would live and die with you.
 * Bard Observing Jouk a wee tate tipſy,

Smirking reply'd the pauky gipſy.