Poem by Robert Burns

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I met a lass, a bonnie lass,
  	Coming o’er the braes o’ Couper,
Bare her leg and bright her een,
  	And handsome ilka bit about her.
Weel I wat she was a quean
  	Wad made a body’s mouth to water;
Our Mess John, wi’ his lyart pow,
  	His haly lips wad lickit at her.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Gala Water
4. Stay My Charmer
5. The Flowery Banks of Cree

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