Page:Bonny Jean (3).pdf/5

5 Do they never carelessly stray, While happily she lies asleep ? Tweed’s murmurs should lull her to rest ; Kind nature indulging my bliss— To ease the soft pains of my breast, I'd steal an embrosial kiss.

'Tis she does the virgins excel, No beauty with her may compare ; Love’s graces around her do dwell ; She’s the fairest where thousands are fair. Say, charmer, where do thy flocks stray ? Oh! tell me at noon where they feed ? Shall I seek them on sweet-winding Tay, Or the pleasanter banks of the Tweed ?

my Meg's gien me the bag The fling, or what d'ye ca' that, An' squares wi' Jock, the Lunnon buck, I'm no to greet for a' that; For a' that, an' a' that, An' twice as muckle's a' that, Though she be sweet, for kissing meet. An' muckle mair than a' that.