[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.