O tell me the way for to woo/Oh Tell Me How for to Woo

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O TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO.

Tune—Bonnie Dundee.

Oh! tell me, oh tell me bonnie young lassie!
O tell me young lassie how for to woo!
Oh tell me, oh tell me bonnie young lassie,
O tell me sweet lassie how for to woo.
Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning,
Lips like the roses fresh moisten’d wi’ dew?
Say, maun I roose your een’s pawkie scorning?—
Oh ! tell me, oh tell me how for to woo!

Far hae I wander'd to see thee dear lassie!
Far hae I ventur'd across the saut sea!
Far hae I ventur'd o’er moorland and mountain,
Houseless, and wearie, sleep’d cauld on the lea
Ne’er have I tried yet to mak luve to onie;
For ne’er loo’d I onie till ance l saw you;
Now we’re alane in the green wood sae bonnie!—
Oh! tell me, oh tell me how for to woo!

What care I for your wandering, young laddie!
What care I for your crossing the sea!
It was na for naething you left poor young Peggy
—It was for my tocher ye cam to court me.
Say, hae ye gowd to busk me ay gawdie?
Ribbans, and perlins and breast-knots anew
A house that is cantie, wi‘ walth in’t, my laddie?
Without this ye never need try for to woo.

I hae na gowd to busk ye ay gawdie!
I canna buy ribbans and perlins anew!
I've naething to brag o' house, or o’ plenty!
I’ve little to gie but a heart that is true—
I cam na for tocher—I ne’er heard o‘ onie;
I never loo’d Peggy, nor e’er brak my vow;
I’ve wander’d, poor fool! for a face fause as bonnie
—I little thought this was the way for to woo!

Hae na ye roos‘d my cheeks like the morning,
Hae na ye roos'd my cherry-red mou?
Hae na ye come o'er sea, moor, and mountain,
What mair, my dear Johnnie, need ye to woo?
Far hae ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie!
Now that ye've found me, there’s nae cause to
rue;
Wi’ wealth we’ll hae plenty. I’ll ne’er gang gaudy,
I ne’er wish'd fo mair than a heart that is true.

She hid her fair face in her true lover’s bosom,
The saft tear o' transport fill’d ilk lover’s ee;
The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,
And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.
He clasp'd her, he press’d her, and ca'd her his
hinny,
And aften he tasted her hiney sweet mou;
And ay 'tween ilk smack she sigh’d to her Johnnie
—Oh ! laddie ! oh laddie ! weel can ye woo!