[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
THE Lass of Peaty’s Mill,
So bony, blyth and gay,
In spight of all my skill,
Hath stole my heart away.
When tedding of the hay
Bare-headed on the green,
Love ‘midst her locks did play,
And wanton’d in her een.
–
Her Arms, white, round and smooth,
Breasts rising in their dawn,
To age it would give youth,
To press ‘em with his hand.
Thro’ all my spirits ran
An extasy of bliss,
When I such sweetness fand
Wrapt in a balmy kiss.
–
Without the help of art,
Like flowers which grace the wild,
She did her sweets impart,
When e’er she spoke or smil’d.
Her looks they were so mild,
Free from affected pride,
She me to love beguil’d,
I wish’d her for my bride.
–
O had I all that wealth
Hoptoun’s high mountains fill,
Insur’d long life and health,
And pleasures at my will;
I’d promise and fulfill,
That none but bony she,
The Lass of Peaty’s Mill,
Shou’d share the same wi’ me.
