For arles he gae me a kiss,
An’ twa ilka day was my fee;
A bargain nae surely amiss,
If paid where naebody could see.
But scarce was the compact complete
Ere I would hae broke n't again,
The arles he gae were sae sweet,
For mair o’ them, Sirs, I was fain.
It's braw wi’ the tweezlock to twine
Lang rapes in the barn sae lythe,
Yet better by far when it's fine,
An’ I gaither after his scythe.
O busy's the banster at e'en
Till bedtime he sits an’ he glooms,
An’ aye he cries “Lassie, a preen”
An’ worries the stobs in his thooms.
The laddie is tired wi’ the rake,
Sleep soon puts a steek in his e'e,
An’ I slip awa’ to the break
An’ cannily gather my fee.