Page:Bessy Bell & Mary Gray.pdf/5

5 Blythe, blythe, blythe was she,

Blythe was she butt and ben;

Weel she loo'd a Hawick ,

And leugh to see a tappit hen.

I loo'd the liquor weel enough,

But waes my heart my cash ran done,

Lang or I had quench’d my drouth,

And laith was I to pawn my shoon;

Blythe, &c.

When we had three times toom’d the stoup,

And the neist chappin new begun,

Wha started in to heeze our hope,

But Andro wi his cutty gun.

Blythe, &c.

The Carlin brought her kebbuck ben,

And girdle-cakes weel toasted brown,

Weel did the cannie kimmer ken,

It gart the swats gae glibber down.

Blythe, &c.

We ca'd the bicker aft about,

Till dawin we ne’er jeed our bum;

And ay the cleanest drinker out

Was Andro wi‘ his cutty gun.

Blythe, &c.

He did like onie mavis sing,

While she below his oxter sat;