Page:Bonny Scot (1).pdf/5

 Scenes of delight my soul possess'd

I bless’d, then hugg’d the maid;

I robb’d the kisses off her breast,

sweet as the noon-day shade.

Joy transporting, never fails

to fly away as air,

Another swain with her prevails,

to be as faife as fair

What can my fatal passion care,

I’ll never woo again;

All her disdain I must endure,

adoring her in vain.

What pity 'tis to hear the boy,

thus fighting with his pain;

But time and scorn may give him joy,

to hear her sigh again.

Ah! fickle Chloe be advis’d,

do not thyself beguile;

A faithful lover should be priz’d,

thou’ll cure him with a smile.

E were baith born in ae town end,

and baith brought up together,

I wot we were not seven years old,

when we lo’ed ane anither;

Our fathers and our mithers baith,

of us they had great joy,

Expecting still the marriage-day

'twixt me and Gilderoy.