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Sang X., pp.222-223.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

Winter was cauld, and my Cleathing was thin


Sung by Peggy and Patie, p. 30. 



WHen first my dear laddie gade to the green hill, 

And I at ew-milking first seyd my young skill, 

To bear the milk-bowie, nae pain was to me, 

When I at the bughting forgather’d with thee. 



When corn-riggs wav’d yellow, and blew hether – 

Bloom’d bonny on moorland and sweet rising fells, 

Nae birns, brier, or breckens, gave trouble to me, 

If I found the berries right ripen’d for thee 



When thou ran, or wrestled, or putted the stane, 

And came aff the victor, my heart was ay fain: 

Thy ilka sport manly, gave pleasure to me; 

For nane can put, wrestle or run swift as thee. 



Our Jenny sings safely the Cowden Broom-Knows

And Rosie lilts sweetly the milking the ews; 

There’s few Jenny Nettles like Nansy can sing, 

At throw the wood laddie, Bess gars our lugs ring: 

But when my dear Peggy sings with better skill, 

The boat-man, tweed-side, or the lass of the mill

‘Tis many times sweeter and pleasing to me; 

For tho’ they sing nicely they cannot like thee. 



How easy can lasses trow what they desire? 

And praises sae kindly increases love’s fire; 

Give me still this pleasure my study shall be 

To make myself better and sweeter for thee. 

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