Wit & humour > Gentle shepherd

The GENTLE SHEPHERD.
J7
S A N G II. Fy gar rub her o’er with ftrae.
Dear Roger, if your Jenny geek,
and anfvjsr kindnefs with a flight.
Seem unconcern'd at her neglect.
For women in a man delight;
But them defpife who're foon defeat.
And with a fimple face give way
To a repulfe then be not Mate,
Puflo bauldly on, and win the day.
When maidens, innocently young.
Say often what they never mean ;
Ne'er mind their pretty lying tongue.
But tent the language of their een:
If thefe agree, and fhe perfifl
To anfwer all your love with hate,
Seek elfewhere to be better blefl.
And let her figh when it's too late.
Roger.
Kind Patie, now fair fa’ your honed heart.
Ye’re ay fae cadgy, and have fic an art
To harten ane: for now as clean’s a leek.
Ye’ve cherilh’d me fince ye began to fpeak.
Sae for your pains, I’ll make you a propine.
My mother (reft her faul) {he made it fine,
A tartan plaid, fpun of good haflock woo.
Scarlet and green the fets, the borders blue.
With fpraings like goud, and filler crofs’d with black;
I never had it yet upon my back.
Well are ye wordy o’t, wha have fae kind
Red up my ravel’d doubts, and clear’d my mind.
Patie.
Well, hald ye there:—And fince ye’ve frankly made
A prefent to me of your braw new plaid,
My flute’s be yours; and {he too that’s fae nice
Shall come a-will, gif ye’ll tak my advice.
Roger.