Tune—“Laggan Burn.”
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ere’s to thy health, my bonie lass,Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee;I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door,To tell thee that I lo’e thee.O dinna think, my pretty pink,But I can live without thee:I vow and swear I dinna care,How lang ye look about ye. Thou’rt aye sae free informing me,Thou hast nae mind to marry;I’ll be as free informing thee,Nae time hae I to tarry:I ken thy frien’s try ilka meansFrae wedlock to delay thee;Depending on some higher chance,But fortune may betray thee. I ken they scorn my low estate,But that does never grieve me;For I’m as free as any he;Sma’ siller will relieve me.I’ll count my health my greatest wealth,Sae lang as I’ll enjoy it;I’ll fear nae scant, I’ll bode nae want,As lang’s I get employment. But far off fowls hae feathers fair,And, aye until ye try them,Tho’ they seem fair, still have a care;They may prove waur than I am.But at twal’ at night, when the moon shines bright,My dear, I’ll come and see thee;For the man that loves his mistress weel,Nae travel makes him weary. Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The^1 [Footnote 1: The lass is identified as Ellison Begbie, a servantwench, daughter of a “Farmer Lang”.] A Song of Similes
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