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BESS THE GAWKIE.
Blythe young Jean to Bess did say,
Will ye gang to you sunny brae,
Where flocks do feed and herds do stray,
And sport a while wi' Jamie.
Ah na, lass. I'll no gang there,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
Nor about Jamie tak nae care,
For he's ta’en up wi'Maggie.
For hark, and I will tell you lass,
Did I not see young Jamie pass,
Wi' muckle blythness in his face,
Out o’er the muir wi’ Maggie.
I wat he gae her mony a kiss,
And Maggie took them ne’er amiss,
'Tween ilka smack pleas’d her wi' this,
Ihat Bess was but a Gawkie.
For whene’er a civil kiss I seek,
She turns her head and thraws her cheek,
And for an hour she’ll scarcely speak,
Who'd not ca’ her a Gawkie?
But sure my Maggie has mak sense,
she’ll gie a score without offence
Now gie me ane unto the mense,
And ye shall be my Dawtie.
