275. Song—The Laddie's dear sel'

 THERE’S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
 That he from our lassies should wander awa’;
For he’s bonie and braw, weel-favor’d witha’,
 An’ his hair has a natural buckle an’ a’.



His coat is the hue o’ his bonnet sae blue,
 His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw;
His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slae,
 And his clear siller buckles, they dazzle us a’.



For beauty and fortune the laddie’s been courtin;
 Weel-featur’d, weel-tocher’d, weel-mounted an’ braw;
But chiefly the siller that gars him gang till her,
 The penny’s the jewel that beautifies a’.



There’s Meg wi’ the mailen that fain wad a haen him,
And Susie, wha’s daddie was laird o’ the Ha’;
There’s lang-tocher’d Nancy maist fetters his fancy,
But the laddie’s dear sel’, he loes dearest of a’.

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