Her ſtockings were of kerſy green;
as tight as ony ſilk;
O ſic a leg was never ſeen!
her ſkin was white as milk:
Her hair was black as ane cou’d wiſh,
and ſweet, ſweet was her mou’!
On Jeany daintily can kiſs.
but what is that to you?
The roſe and lily baith combine
to make my Jeany fair:
There is nae benniſon like mine,
I have amaiſt nae care;
But when another ſwain, my dear,
ſhall ſay you’re fair to view,
Let Jeany whiſper in his ear,
Pray what is that to you?
The Beautiful Girl.
I’ll ſing of my Jenny all day and all night,
She’s always good-natur’d and full of delight;
Her looks are ſo pleaſant, her eyes are ſo bright,
That I always am happy when ſhe’s in my ſight.
And a beautiful girl is my Jenny &c.
To me Jenny’s love is oft-times expreſt,
Of all her young gallants ſhe loves me the beſt;
Her lips I have kiſs’d, and her boſom I’ve preſt,
She’s ſweeter than roſes in June, I proteſt.
And a beautiful girl, &c.
