"Haud aff your hands, young man," she says,
"And dinna sae uncivil be:
If ye hae onto love for me,
O wrang na my virginitie!"
VIII.
Her hair was like the links o' gowd,
Her teeth were like the ivorie;
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me.
IX.
Her bosom was the driven snaw,
Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see;
Her limbs the polish'd marble stane,
The lass that made the bed to me.
X.
I kiss'd her owre and owre again,
And ay she wist na what to say;
I laid her between me and the wa'--
The lassie thought na lang till day.
XI.
Upon the morrow when we rose,
I thank'd her for her courtesie;
But aye she blush'd, and aye she sigh'd,
And said, "Alas! ye've ruin'd me."
XII.
I clasp'd her waist, and kiss'd her syne,
While the tear stood twinklin' in her e'e;
I said, "My lassie, dinna cry,
For ye ay shall mak the bed to me."
XIII.
She took her mither's Holland sheets,
And made them a' in sarks to me:
Blythe and merry may she be,
The lass that made the bed to me.
XIV.
The bonnie lass made the bed to me,
The braw lass made the bed to me:
I'll ne'er forget till the day I die,
The lass that made the bed to me!
* * * * *
CLX.
SAE FAR AWA.
Tune--"_Dalkeith Maiden Bridge._"
[This song was sent to the Museum by Burns, in his own handwriting.]
I.
O, sad and heavy should I part,
But for her sake sae far awa;
Unknowing what my way may thwart,
My native land sae far awa.
Thou that of a' things Maker art,
That form'd this fair sae far awa,
Gie body strength, then I'll ne'er start
At this my way sae far awa.
II.
How true is love to pure desert,
So love to her, sae far awa:
And nocht can heal my bosom's smart,
While, oh! she is sae far awa.
Nane other love, nane other dart,
I feel but hers, sae far awa;
But fairer never touch'd a heart
Than hers, the fair sae far awa.
* * * * *
CLXI.
I'LL AY CA' IN BY YON TOWN.
Tune--"_I'll gae nae mair to yon town._"
[Jean Armour inspired this very sweet song. Sir Harris Nicolas says it
is printed in Cromek's Reliques: it was first printed in the Museum.]
I.
I'll ay ca' in
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