O fic a Leg was never seen,

Her Skin was white as Milk ;
Her Hair was black as ane cou'd with
And sweet, fweet was her Mou,
O! Jeany daintylie can kiss;
But what's that to you?

The Rofe and Lily baith combine,
To make my Jeany fair,
There is nae Bennifon like mine,
I have amaist nae Care;
Only I fear my Jeany's Face
May cause mae Men to rew,
And that may gar me fay, alas!
But what's that to you?

Conceal thy Beauties, if thou can,
Hide that sweet Face of thine,
That I may only be the Man
Enjoys thefe Looks divine.
O! do not prostitute, my Dear,
Wonders to common View,
And I with faithful Heart shall fwear,
For ever to be true.

King Solomon had Wives anew,
And mony a Concubine;
But I enjoy a Bliss mair true,
His Joys were fhort of mine;
And Jeany's happier than they,
She feldom wants her Due,
All Debts of Love to her I pay,
And what's that to you?

SONG CCCXLV. ROB'S JOCK.

R

OB's Jock came to woo our Jenny z On ae Feaft-Day when we were fou She brankit faft, and made her bonny, And faid, Jock, come ye here to woo? She burnift her baith Breaft and Brou, And made her cleer as ony Clock; Then fpak her Dame, and faid, I trou come till woo our Fenny, Jock.

Jock faid, forfuith, I yern fu' fain
To luk my Head, and fit down by you:
Then fpak her Minny, and faid again,
My Bairn has Tocher enough to gie you.
Tehie! qo Jenny, kiek, kiek, I fee you:
Minny, yon Man maks but a Mock.
Deil hae the fu leis me o' you,
I come to woo your Jenny, qo Jeck.
My Bairn has Tocher of her awin;

A Gufe, a Gryce, a Cock and Hen,
A Stirk, a Staig, an Acre fawin,
Bakbread and a Bannock-ftane;

A Pig, a Pot, and a Kirn there-ben,
A Kame-but and a Kaming-stock;
With Coags and Luggies nine or ten:
Come ye to woo our Jenny, Jock?
A Wecht, a Peet-ereel and a Cradle,
A pair of Clips, a Graip, a Flail,
An Ark, an Ambry, and a Ladle,
A Milfie, and a Sowen-Pale,

A roufty Whittle to fheer the Kail,
And a Timber-mell the Bear to knock,
Twa Sheifs made of an auld Fir-dale a
Come ye to woo our Jenny, Jock?
A Furm, a Furlet, and a Peck,
A Rock, a Reel, and a Wheel-band,
A Tub, a Barrow, and a Seck,
A Spurtil-braid, and an Elwand.
Then Jock took Jenny be the Hand,
And cry'd, a Feaft! and flew a Cock,
And made a Brydal upo' Land:
Now I have get your Jenny, qo Jock.
Now Dame, I have your Doughter marri'd,
And tho ye mak it ne'er fae tough,
I let you wit fhe's nae mifcarri'd,

Its well kend I have Gear enough: Ane auld gawd Gloyd fell owre a Heugh, A Spade, a Speet, a Spur, a Sock; Withouten Owfen I have a Pleugh: May that no fer your Jenny, go Jack?

A treen Truncher, a Ram-horn Spoon,
Twa Buits of barkit Blafint-Leather,
A' Graith that ganes to coble Shoon,
And a Trawcruck to twyne a Teather.
Twa Croks that moup among the Heather,
A pair of Branks, and a Fetter Lock,

A teugh Purfe made of a Swine's Blather,
To had your Tocher, Jenny, qo Jock.
Good Elding for our Winter Fire,
A Cod of Caff wad fill a Cradle,
A Rake of Iron to clat the Bire,
A Deuk about the Dubs to padle ;
The Pannel of an auld Led-fadle,
And Rob my Eem hecht me a Stock,
Twa lufty Lips to lick a Ladle,
May thir no gane your Jenny, qo Jock
A pair of Hames and Brechom fine,
And without Bitts a Bridle-renzie,
A Sark made of the Linkome-twine,
A gay green Cloke that will not stenzie;
Mair yet in ftore-
-I need na fenzie,
Five hundred Flaes, a fendy Flock;
And are not thae a wakrife Menzie,
To gae to Bed with Jenny and Jock?
Tak thir for my part of the Feaft,

It is well known I am weel bodin:
Ye need not fay my part is leaft,

Wer they as meikle as they'r lodin.
The Wife fpeerd gin the Kail was fodin,
When we have done, tak hame the Brok;
The Roft was teugh as Raploch Hodin,
With which they feafted Jenny and Jock.

SONG CCCXLVI. A Rock and a wee pickle Tow.

I

Have a green Purse and a wee pickle Gow'd, A bonny Piece Land and Planting on't, It fattens my Flocks, and my Barns it has ftow'd's But the beft Thing of a's yet wanting on't:

To grace it, and trace it,
And gi'e me Delight;
To blefs me, and kiss me,
And comfort my Sight,

With Beauty by Day, and Kindness by Night,"
And nae mair my lane gang fauntring on't.
My Chrifty fhe's charming and good as she's fair;
Her Een and her Mouth are enchanting sweet,
She fmiles me on Fire, her Frowns gi'e Despair;
I love while my Heart gaes panting wi't.
Thou faireft, and dearest,
Delight of my Mind,
Whofe gracious Embraces
By Heaven were defign'd

For happiest Transports, and Bliffes refin'd,
Nae langer delay thy granting fweet.

For thee, bonny Chrifty, my Shepherds and
Hinds

Shall carefully make the Year's Dainties thine ; Thus freed frae leigh Care, while Love fills our Minds,

Our Days fhall with Pleasure and Plenty shing
Then hear me, and cheer me,

With fmiling Confent,

Believe me, and give me

No Caufe to lament.

Since I ne'er can be happy, till thou fay, con tent,

I'm pleas'd with my Jamie, and he shall be mine‹ SONG CCCXLVII. Saw ye Jenny, f. AW ye Jenny Nettles,

Jenny Nettles, Jenny Nettles,

Saw ye Jenny Nettles,

Coming frae the Market;

Bag and Baggage on her Back,

Her Fee and Bountith in her Lap';!

Bag and Baggage on her Back;

And a Babie in her Öxter,

I met ayont the Kaitny,
Jenny Nettles, Jenny Nettles,
Singing till her Bairny,

Robin Rattles' Bastard;
To flee the Dool upo' the Stool,
And ilka ane that mocks her,
She round about feeks Robin out,
To ftap it in his Oxter.

Fy, fy! Robin Rattle,

Robin Rattle, Robin Rattle ;

Fy, fy! Robin Rattle,

Ufe Jenny Nettles kindly:

Score out the Blame, and fhun the Shame,
And without mair Debate o't,

Take hame your Wain, mak Jenny fain,
The leel and leefome Gate o't.

SONG CCCXLVIII. Jocky's fou, &c.
Jocky's fou, Jenny fain,

Jenny was nae ill to gain,

She was couthy, he was kind,

And thus the Wooer tell'd his Mindy

Jenny I'll nae mair be nice,
Gi'e me Love at ony Price;
I winna prig for Red or Whyt,
Love alone can gi'e Delyt.

Others feek they kenna what,
In Looks, in Carriage, and a' that y
Give me Love, for her I court:
Love in Love makes a' the Sport.

Colours mingl'd uneo fine,
Common Motives lang finfyne,
Never can engage my Love,

Until my Fancy firft

approve.

It is na Meat but Appetite
That makes our eating a Delyts

Beauty is at beft Deceit ;
Fancy only keas nae Cheat.