Genty Tibby, and sonsy Nelly, pp.78-79.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

To the Tune of, Tibby Fowler in the Glen

– 

TIBBY has a fore of charms, 

Her genty shape our fancy warms; 

How strangely can her sma’ white arms 

Fetter the lad who looks but at her? 

Frae ‘er ancle to her slender waste, 

These sweets conceal’d invite to dawt her; 

Her rosy cheek, and rising breast, 

Gar ane’s mouth gush bowt fu’ o’ Water. 

– 

NEELY‘s gawsy, saft and gay, 

Fresh as the lucken flowers in May

Ilk ane that sees her, crys, ah hey 

She’s bonny! O I wonder at her

The dimples of her chin and cheek, 

And limbs sae plump invite to dawt her; 

Her lips sae sweet, and skin sae sleek, 

Gar mony mouths beside mine water. 

– 

Now strike my finger in a bore, 

My wyson with the maiden shore, 

Gin I can tell whilk I am for, 

When these twa stars appear thegither, 

O love! why dost thou gi’e thy fires 

Sae large, while we’re oblig’d to neither? 

Our spacious sauls immense desires, 

And ay be in a hankerin swither. 

– 

TIBBY’s shape and airs are fine, 

And Nelly’s beauties are divine: 

But since they canna baith be mine, 

Ye Gods, give ear to my petition, 

Provide a good lad for the tane, 

But let it be with this provison, 

I get the other to my lane, 

In prospect plano and fruition. 

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