To the Tune of, Come kiss with me, come clap with me, &c.
MY Jocky blyth for what thou has done,
There is nae help nor mending;
For thou has jog’d me out of tune,
For a’ thy fair pretending.
My mither sees a change on me,
For my complexion dashes,
And this, alas! has been with thee
Sae late amang the rashes.
My Peggy, what I’ve said I’ll do,
To free thee frae her scouling;
Come then and let us buckle to,
Nae langer let’s be fooling:
For her content I’ll instant wed,
Since thy complexion dashes;
And then we’ll try a feather-bed,
‘Tis safter than the rashes.
Then Jocky since thy love’s so true,
Let mither scoul, I’m easy:
Sae lang’s I live I ne’er shall rue
For what I’ve done to please thee.
And there’s my hand I’s ne’er complain
O! well’s me on the rashes;
When e’er thou likes I’ll do’t again,
And a feg for a’ their clashes.
– Old Songs.