Page:Old maid and widow, or, The widow the best wife.pdf/5

Rh I’d sooner scorn the Muses train,

Than gi’e a sakeless bosom pain;

An’ maist of a’, wad I regard

The cummers, dear to ilka bard.

Love’s dimplin’ smile an’ meltin’, glance.

Ha’e gart my heart wi’ rapture dance;

An’ lang as life that heart sall warm,

Sae lang, I trust, sall woman charm.

Had a’ the sex like pith to move,

As first to win— then fix our love,

The Muse had blythely spread her wing,

And joyous, touched a safter string.

Thae facts premised— lest patience fail,

Good Mr. Preses, hear my tale.

In Rashy-glen there lived a chiel,

Ane Watty Gibb, (I kent him weel,)

A clean-houghed, weel-made, forthy callan,

Wi’ plenty laughin’ round his dwallin’;

Twa sleekit naigs, four gude milk kye,

Wi’ calves an’ stirks, an’ cash forby;

His lease was lang, wi’ canny rent;

Thus, set fu’ cothie, an’ content,

He built a ha’ of stane an’ lime,

Which few cou’d equal at the time;

The couples made of o’er-sea timmer,

Had a’ been seasoned thro’ the simmer;