8
Gar thee grow forgetfu’, and let his: heart bleed,
that anes had some hope of purchasing thine?
Rouze up thy reason, my beautifn’ Annie,
and dinna prefer your fleegaries to me;
O! as thou art bonny be faithfu' and canny,
and tain’t a true lover that donts upon thee.
Shall a Paris edition of new-fangle Sany
tho’ gilt o’er wi’ laces and fringes he be,
By adorning himself, be admir’d by fair Annie,
and aim at those benisons promis’d to me:
Rouze up thy resson my beautifu’ Annie,
and never prefer a light dancer to me;
O! as thou art bonny, be constant and canny,
love only thy Jamie who donts upon thee.
O! think my dear charmer, on ilka sweet hour,
that shade away saftly between thee and me,
E'er squirrels, or beaus, or sopp’ry had power,
to rival my love and impels upon thee.
Rouze up thy reason my beautifu’ Annie,
and let thy desires be a’ center’d in me;
O! as thou art bonny, be faithfu’ and canny,
and love him wha’s langing to center in thee.
I FEAR it is LOVE.
WHy heaves my fond bosom? what can it mean!
Why flutters my heart which was once so serene?
Why this sighing & trembling when Daphne is near?
Or why, when she’s absent, this sorrow and fear?
For ever, methinks, I with wonder could trace,
The thousand soft charms that embelish thy face:
Each moment I view thee, new beauties I find,
With thy face I am charm’d, but enslav’d by thy mind.
Untainted with folly, unsullied by pride.
There native good humour, and virtue reside:
Pray heaven that virtue thy soul may supply
With compassion for him, who without thee must die.
FINIS.
