My Love, She's But A Lassie Yet
My Love, She's But A Lassie Yet | |
Robert Burns, 1789
| |: My love, she's but a lassie yet, :| We'll let her stand a year or twa, She'll no be half sae saucy yet; |: I rue the day I sought her, O! :| Wha gets her needs na say she's woo'd, But he may say he's bought her, O. | 2. |: Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet, :| Gae seek for pleasure whare you will, But here I never miss'd it yet, |: We're a' dry wi' drinkin o't, :| The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife; He could na preach for thinkin o't. |