Corn Riggs are bony, pp.144-145.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

MY Patie is a lover gay, 

His mind is never muddy, 

His breath is sweeter than new hay, 

His face is fair and ruddy. 

His shape is handsom, middle size; 

He’s stately in his wawking; 

The shining of his een surprise; 

‘Tis heaven to hear him tawking. 


Last night I met him on a bawk, 

Where yellow corn was growing, 

There mony a kindly word he spake, 

That set my heart a glowing. 

He kiss’d, and vow’d he wad be mine, 

And loo’d me best of ony; 

That gars me like to sing sinsyne, 

O Corn riggs are bony


Let maidens of a silly mind 

Refuse what maist they’re wanting, 

Since we for yielding are design’d, 

We chastly should be granting; 

Then I’ll comply and mary Pate

And syne my cockernony 

He’s free to touzle air or late, 

Where corn riggs are bony. 

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