The Book of Scottish Song/The Three Lasses

The Three Lasses.

[William Holmes.—Here first printed.]

My heart, alack! is sair opprest
⁠For love o' lasses three;
I kenna whilk o' them to choose,
⁠They're a' sae dear to me.

Young Peggy has a takin' gate,
⁠She's nimble as the fawn;
An' likes to play a merry prank,
⁠While skipping o'er the lawn.

To see her dancin' gowden locks,
⁠My heart loups licht wi' glee;
An' when I pree her rosy lips,
⁠Care flees awa' frae me.

Wi' eager look upon a book,
⁠You'll aft see lady Ann,
Wi' jetty locks, an' lily neck
⁠Bent like a stately swan;

Amang the tales of olden time
⁠She's sic a learned quean,
Ye maun tak' tent ere ye begin
⁠To crack wi' her at e'en.

And there is gentle Madeline,
⁠Wi' een o' lovin' blue,
To hear her sing an auld Scotch sang
⁠You'd bless her earnest mou'.

Aye when I gang frae Madeline,
⁠Nae body by to tell,
The winsome sangs she sings to me
⁠I whistle to mysel'.

Noo, can ye guess me whilk o' them
⁠My wifie's like to be?—
In troth, I kenna weel mysel'—
⁠They're a' sae dear to me!

---