The Deceiver, pp.153-154.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

WIth tuneful pipe, and hearty glee, 

Young Waty wan my heart; 

A blyther lad ye cou’dna see, 

All beauty without art. 

His winning tale 

Did soon prevail 

To gain my fond belief; 

But soon the swain 

Gangs o’er the plain, 

And leaves me full, and leaves me full, 

And leaves me full of grief. 

– 

Tho’ Colin courts with tuneful sang, 

Yer few regard his mane; 

The lasses a’ ‘round Waty thrang, 

While Colin’s left alane: 

In Aberdeen 

Was never seen 

A lad that gave sic pain, 

He daily wooes, 

And still pursues, 

Till he does all, till he does all, 

Till he does all obtain. 

– 

But soon as he has gain’d the bliss, 

Away then does he run, 

And hardly will afford a kiss, 

To silly me undone: 

Bony Katy 

Maggy, Beatty

Avoid the roving swain; 

His wyly tongue 

Be sure to shun, 

Or you, like me; or you, like me, 

Like me will be undone. 

Old Songs

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