There’s a youth in this city, it were a great pityThat he from our lassies should wander awa’;For he’s bonie and braw, weel-favor’d witha’,An’ his hair has a natural buckle an’ a’.
His coat is the hue o’ his bonnet sae blue,His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw;His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slae,And his clear siller buckles, they dazzle us a’.
For beauty and fortune the laddie’s been courtin;Weel-featur’d, weel-tocher’d, weel-mounted an’ braw;But chiefly the siller that gars him gang till her,The penny’s the jewel that beautifies a’.
There’s Meg wi’ the mailen that fain wad a haen him,And Susie, wha’s daddie was laird o’ the Ha’;There’s lang-tocher’d Nancy maist fetters his fancy,—But the laddie’s dear sel’, he loes dearest of a’.