Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/338

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.

THE TORBOLTON LASSES.

In Torbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,And proper young lasses and a', man;But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,They carry the gree frae them a', man.
Their father's a laird, and weel he can spare 't,Braid money to tocher them a', man,To proper young men, he'll clink in the handGowd guineas a hunder or twa, man.
There's ane they ca' Jean, I'll warrant ye've seenAs bonie a lass or as braw, man,But for sense and guid taste she'll vie wi' the best,And a conduct that beautifies a', man.
The charms o' the min', the langer they shine,The mair admiration they draw, man;While peaches and cherries, and roses and lilies,They fade and they wither awa, man.
If ye be for Miss Jean, tak this frae a frien',Á hint o' a rival or twa, man,The Laird o' Blackbyre wad gang through the fire,If that wad entice her awa, man.
The Laird o' Braehead has been on his speed,For mair than a towmond or twa, man,The Laird o' the Ford will straught on a board,If he canna get her at a', man.
Then Anna comes in, the pride o' her kin,The boast of our bachelors a', man:Sae sonsy and sweet, sae fully complete,She steals our affections awa, man.
If I should detail the pick and the waleO'lasses that live here awa, man,The fault wad be mine, if they didna shine,The sweetest and best o' them a', man.
I lo'e her mysel, but darena weel tell,My poverty keeps me in awe, man,For making o' rhymes, and working at times,Does little or naething at a', man.
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