Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Collection of twenty-four Scots songs (chiefly pastoral)

What the Deice cast ail ye
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Says Nell to Mog
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, whai* Iia’e ye been, wha met ye cornin’ o’er the Gi'een, whar
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But Harlv? i'll Mad’ I guel's the caufe,
Of a’ thy granes, thy hums an’ haMS,
Ye’ve got a lick Mi’ Cupids taws.
An’that’s the thing that, ails ye.
But ne’er a man that ftan’s on feet,
E’er foud mak’ me weet my cheek,
Ye are a fool to fob an’ greet,
Becaufe a Wooer fails ye.
D’ye ken, M’hen Davie took the dour.
An’ courted Maggy, o’er the moor^
I fang frae morn till e’enin’s hour.
Then Mhat the Deuce can ail ye?
An’ gin ye’d tak’advice frae me,
I Mad let the Younker fee!
His freaks foud never trouble gie.
Nor a’his art beguile ye.
Nor wad I vex myfell’ f«^e fair,
Tho’ Jockie, he war thrice as fair,
I’d gi’e him fauce for fauce, an’ mair.
For that’s the gate to heal ye.
Then come dear Meg, thraw by yere wae,
Be as blyth’s the lightfome Kae;
Chear up \ere heart, e’en' let him gae,
An’ fay there’s naething ails ye.
For the German Flute.