London 'prentice; or, The wanton mistress/Down the Burn Davie

DOWN THE BURN DAVIE.

WHen trees did bud & fields were green,
and broom bloom'd fair to ſee:
When Mary was complete fifteen,
⁠and love laugh'd in her eye:

Blythe Davie's blinks her heart did move,
⁠to ſpeak her mind thus free,
Gang down the burn Davie, love,
⁠and I ſhall follow thee.

Now Davie did each lad ſurpaſs,
⁠that dwelt on this burn-ſide,
And Mary was the bonnieſt laſs,
⁠juſt fit to be a bride;
Her cheeks were roſy, red and white,
⁠her een were bonny blue;
Her looks were like Aurora bright,
⁠her lips like dropping dew.

As down the burn they took their way,
⁠what tender tales they ſaid!
His cheek to hers he aft did lay,
⁠and with her boſom play'd;
Till baith at laſt impatient grown
⁠to be mair fully bleſt,
In yonder vale they lean'd them down,
⁠love only ſaw the reſt.

What paſs’d, I gueſs was harmleſs play,
⁠and naithing ſure unmeet;
For ganging hame I heard them ſay,
⁠they lik'd a wa'k ſae ſweet;
And that they aften ſhou'd return,
⁠ſuch pleaſure's to renew,
Quoth Mary, Love, I like the burn,
⁠and ay ſhall follow you

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G L A S G O W.

Printed by J. and M. Robertſon, Saltmarket, 1803.