Robert Burns

O Mally’s Meek, Mally’s Sweet

As I was walking up the street,
  A barefit maid I chanced to meet;
But O the road was very hard
  For that fair maiden’s tender feet.

It were mair meet that those fine feet
  Were weel laced up in silken shoon,
And ‘twere more fit that she should sit
  Within yon chariot gilt aboon.

Her yellow hair, beyond compare,
  Comes trinkling down her swan-like neck,
And her two eyes, like stars in skies,
  Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck.

O Mally’s meek, Mally’s sweet,
  Mally’s modest and discreet,
Mally’s rare, Mally’s fair,
  Mally’s every way complete.