Page:Bonny Scot (1).pdf/8

 I'll sigh and sob till my last breath,

when I think on my joy,

Lamenting still the tragic end

of my love Gilderoy.

Alas! that e'er such laws were made,

to hang a man for gear,

Either for stealing cow or ewe,

or catching horse or mare.

Had not the laws then been so strict,

I ne'er had lost my joy,

But now he lodges with Old Nick

that hang'd my Gilderoy.

Roger, if your Jenny geck,

and answer kindness with a slight,

Seem unconcern'd at her neglect,

for women in a man delight:

But them despise who're soon defeat,

and with a simple face give way

To a repulse - then be not blate,

push bauldly on and win the day.

When maidens, innocently young,

say aften what they do not mean,

Ne'er mind their pretty lying tongue,

but tent the language of their een:

If these agree, and she persist

to answer all your love with hate,

Seek elsewhere to be better blest,

and let her sigh when 'tis too late.