[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
Polwart on the Green.
Sung by Peggy, p. 10.
THE dorty will repent,
If lover’s heart grow cauld,
And nane her smiles will tent,
Soon as her face looks auld:
The dawted bairn thus takes the pet,
Nor eats, tho’ hunger crave,
Whimpers and tarrows at its meat,
And’s laught at by the lave,
They jest it till the dinner’s past,
Thus by it sell abus’d,
The fool thing is oblig’d to fast,
Or eat what they’ve refus’d.