Page:Sae will we yet (2).pdf/4

  But woman is but warld’s gear,
 * Sae let the bonnie lass gang.

Whae’er ye be that woman love
 * To this be never blind,

Nae ferlie ’tis tho’ fickle she prove,
 * A woman has’t by kind:

O woman lovely, woman fair! An angel form’s faun to thy share, ’Twad been o’er meikle to gien thee mair,
 * I mean an angel mind.

My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie,
 * Some counsel unto me come len’;

To anger them a’ is a pity,
 * But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen;

I’m thinking wi’ sic a braw fallow,
 * In poortith I might mak a fen’;

What care I in riches to wallow,
 * If I mauna marry Tam Glen.

There’s Lowrie, the laird o’ Drummeller,
 * “Gude-day to you,” brute, he comes ben;

He brags, and he blaws o’ his siller,
 * But whan will he dance like Tam Glen?

My minnie dues constantly deave me,
 * And bids me beware o’ young men;