Page:Scots medley (3).pdf/8

 White is her neck, saft is her hand, Her waist and feet’s fu genty; With ilka grace she can command Her lips, O vow! their dainty.

And Mary’s locks are like a craw, Her een like diamonds glances; She's ay sae clean, redd up, and brav, She kills whene’er she dances:

Blyth as a kid, with wit at will, She blooming, fight, and tall is; And guides her airs sae gracefu’ still— O Jove, she’s like thy Pallas!

Dear Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, Ye unco sair oppress us; Our fancies jee between you tway, Ye are sic bonny lasses:

Waes me! for baith I canna get, To ane by law we’re stented; Then I’ll draw cuts and tak my fate, And be with ane contented.