Page:March to the battle field.pdf/3

 3 CORN RIGGS.

My Patie is a lover gay, His mind is never muddy, His breath is sweeter than new hay, His face is fair and ruddy. His shape is handsome, middle size; He's stately in his walking; The shining of his een surprise ; 'Tis heaven to hear him talking.

Last night I met him on a bank. Where yellow corn was growing. There mony a kindly word he spak, That set my heart a-glowing. He kiss'd, and vow'd he wad be mine, And loo'd roe best of ony ; That gars me like to sing ainsyne, O corn riggs are bonny.

Let maidens of silly mind Refuse what maist they're wanting, Since we for yielding are design'd We chastely should be granting. Then I'll comply and marry Pate, And syne my cockernony He's free to touzle air or late. Where corn riggs are bonny.