Hey For a Lass Wi’ a Tocher
AWA wi’ your witchcraft o’ beauty’s alarms, The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms: O, gie me the lass that has acres o’ charm; O, gie me the lass wi’ the weel-stockit farms. Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher-the nice yellow guineas for me! Your beauty’s a flower in the morning that blows, And withers the faster, the faster it grows; But the rapturous charm o’ the bonnie green knowes! Ilk spring they’re new deckit wi’ bonnie white yowes. And e’en when this beauty your bosom has blest, The brightest o’ beauty may cloy, when possest; But the sweet yellow darlings wi’ Geordie imprest- The langer ye hae them, the mair they’re carest.
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