Page:Three new songs.pdf/7

 As they were a walking in the green meadow, I said here is a wet day,

I would have spoke, but how could I, when thinking of sweet Sally Gray.

I went down to Tom in the louing, to hear all his cracks and his jokes.

And there was a man telling fortunes, and I must be like other folks,

With chalk, and a pair of bellows, two letter s wrote in my way.

S stands for Sall all the world over, and nothing but G stands for Gray

You talk of your Glasgow lassies, in their targets and ribbons and lace,

Foul fa’ them for pale looking creatures, there’s nae a bit red in their face.

But Sally’s skin’s like alabaster, her cheeks like roses in May,

O man I could stand here for ever, talking about sweet Sally Gray.

Were I some great duke or rich lord, or some parliament of renown,

I would hire a coach and fix horses, and gallop the country all round:

But fortune has plac’d me much lower, which makes me with sorrow to say,

That I surely will die in despair, if I don't get sweet Sally Gray.