The Book of Scottish Song/I'm ower young

I'm ower young.

[This is an old song, dressed up a little by Burns for Johnson's Museum. "The tune," says Mr. Stenhouse, "is evidently the progenitor of that fine modern strathspey, called 'Loch Erroch Side.'"]

I am my mammy's ae bairn,
⁠Wi' unco folk I weary, sir;
And lying in a man's bed,
⁠I'm fley'd wad mak' me eerie, sir.
⁠I'm o'er young to marry yet;
⁠I'm o'er young to marry yet;
⁠I'm o'er young—'twad be a sin
⁠To tak' me frae my mammy yet.

My mammy coft me a new gown,
⁠The kirk maun ha'e the gracing o't;
Were I to lie wi' you, kind sir,
⁠I'm fear'd ye'd spoil the lacing o't.

Hallowmas is come and gane,
⁠The nights are lang in winter, sir;
An' you an' I, in ae bed,
⁠In trouth I dare na venture, sir.

Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind,
⁠Blaws thro' the leafless timmer, sir,
But if ye come this gate again,
⁠I'll aulder be gin simmer, sir.
⁠I'm o'er young to marry yet;
⁠I'm o'er young to marry yet;
⁠I'm o'er young—'twad be a sin
⁠To tak' me frae my mammy yet.

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