PoemsBy Allan Ramsay . ATy They are twa bonny Lafies,They biggd a Bower on yon Burn-brae,And theekd it oer wi BESST BELL I lood yeftreen,And thought I neer coud alter;But MART GRAT>$ twa pawky Een,They gar my Fancy falter. ? if Now BESSTs Hairs, like a Lint Tap,She fmiles like a May Morning,When Phatbus ftarts frae Thetis Lap,The Hills with Rays adorning:White is her Neck, faft is her Hand,Her Wafte and Feets fow genty,With ilka Grace fhe can command,Her Lips, O wow! theyre dainty. & 2 And i *4 3 And MARTS Locks are like the Craw,Her Eye like Diamonds glances |Shes ay fae clean,
PoemsBy Allan Ramsay . ATy They are twa bonny Lafies,They biggd a Bower on yon Burn-brae,And theekd it oer wi BESST BELL I lood yeftreen,And thought I neer coud alter;But MART GRAT>$ twa pawky Een,They gar my Fancy falter. ? if Now BESSTs Hairs, like a Lint Tap,She fmiles like a May Morning,When Phatbus ftarts frae Thetis Lap,The Hills with Rays adorning:White is her Neck, faft is her Hand,Her Wafte and Feets fow genty,With ilka Grace fhe can command,Her Lips, O wow! theyre dainty. & 2 And i *4 3 And MARTS Locks are like the Craw,Her Eye like Diamonds glances |Shes ay fae clean, redd-up and braw,She kills when eer (he dances:Blyth as a Rid, with Wit at Will,She blooming tight and tall is;And guides her Airs fae gracefou ftifl,P Jove ! fhes like thy Pallas* WW Dear BESST BELL and MART GRAT,Ye unco fair opprefs us:Our Fancys jee between you twae,Ye are fie bonny Lafles:Waes me! for baith I canna ane by Law were Rented;Then Ill draw Cuts, and take my Fate,And be with ane THE YOUNG LAIRD .AND EDINBURGH KATT. T^T O W wat ye wha I met Yeftreen** Coming down the Street, my Jo, My Miftrefs in her Tartan Screen,Fow bonny, braw and fweet, my dear, quoth I, Thanks to the NightThat never wifht a Lover ill,NSince yere out of your Mithers Sight,Lets take a Wauk up to the Hill. w O KATT wiltu gang wi* me,And leave the dinfbme Town a while,The Bloffoms fprouting frae the Tree,And a* the Summers gawn to fmile 5 The The Mavis, Nightingale and Lark,The bleeting Lambs and whittling Hynd,In ilka Dale, Green, Shaw and Park,Will nourifh Health and glad yer Mind, Soon as the clear Goodman of DayBends his Morning Draught of Dew,Well gae to fome play,And gather Flowers to busk yer Brow*Well pou the Dazies on the Green,The lucken Gowans frae the Bog;Between Hands now and then well lean,And fport upo the Velvet Fog. M Theres up into a pleafant Glen,A wee Piece frae my Fathers Tower3A canny, faft and flowry Den,Which circling Birks has formd
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Keywords: ., bookcentu, bookdecade1720, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookyear1720
