Page:Five songs (3).pdf/7

It’s ye ha’e wooers mony ane,
An’ lassie ye’re but young, ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale
A routine butt, a routine ben;
There’s Johny o’ the Buskie-glen,
Fu’ is his barn, fu’ is his byre;
Tak this frae me, my bonny hen,
It’s plenty beets the lover’s fire.

For Johnie o’ the Buskie-glen,
I dinna care a single flee;
He lo’es sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae love to spare for nae:
But blythe’s the blink o’ Robie’s e’e,
An weel-a-wat he lo’es me dear;
Ae blink o’ him I wad na gie
For Buskie-glen an’ a’ his gear.

A thoughtless lassie, life’s a faught;
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But ay fu’ han’t is fechtin best,
A hungry care’s an unco care;
But some will spend, and some will spare,
An’ wilfu’ folk maun ha’e their will;
Ane as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.