11. Song—Here's to thy health my bonie lass

 HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass,
 Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee;
I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door,
 To tell thee that I lo’e thee.

O dinna think, my pretty pink,
 But I can live without thee:
I vow and swear I dinna care,
 How lang ye look about ye.



Thou’rt aye sae free informing me,
 Thou hast nae mind to marry;
I’ll be as free informing thee,
 Nae time hae I to tarry:
I ken thy frien’s try ilka means
 Frae wedlock to delay thee;
Depending on some higher chance,
 But fortune may betray thee.



I ken they scorn my low estate,
 But that does never grieve me;
For I’m as free as any he;
 Sma’ siller will relieve me.

I’ll count my health my greatest wealth,
 Sae lang as I’ll enjoy it;
I’ll fear nae scant, I’ll bode nae want,
 As lang’s I get employment.



But far off fowls hae feathers fair,
 And, aye until ye try them,
Tho’ they seem fair, still have a care;
 They may prove waur than I am.

But at twal’ at night, when the moon shines bright,
 My dear, I’ll come and see thee;
For the man that loves his mistress weel,
 Nae travel makes him weary.

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