To its ain Tune.
ALtho’ I be but a country lass,
Yet a lofty mind I bear – O,
And think my sell as good as those
That rich apparel wear – O.
Altho’ my gown be hame spun gray,
My skin it is as saft – O,
As them that satin weeds do wear,
And carry their heads aloft – O.
What tho’ I keep my father’s sheep?
The thing that must be done – O,
With garlands of the finest flowers,
To shade me frae the sun – O.
When they are feeding pleasantly,
Where grass and flowers do spring – O,
Then on a flowrie bank at noon,
I set me down and sing – O.
My Paisly piggy, cork’d with sage,
Contains my drink but thin – O:
No wines do e’er my brain enrage,
Or tempt my mind to sin – O,
My country curds, and wooden spoon,
I think them unco fine – O,
And on a flowry bank, at noon,
I set me down and dine – O.
Altho’ my parents cannot raise
Great bags of shining gold – O.
Like them whase daughters, now a days,
Like swine are bought and sold – O;
Yet my fair body it shall keep
An honest heart within – O,
And for twice fifty thousand crowns,
I value not a prin – O.
I use nae gums upon my hair,
Nor chains about my neck – O,
Nor shining rings upon my hands,
My fingers straight to deck – O;
But for that lad to me shall fa’,
And I have grace to wed – O,
I’ll keep a jewel worth them a’
I mean my maidenhead – O.
If canny fortune give to me,
The man I dearly love – O,
Tho’ we want gear, I dinna care,
My hands I can improve – O.
Expecting for a blessing still,
Descending from above – O,
Then we’ll embrace and sweetly kiss,
Repeating tales of love – O.
– Old Songs.