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(82) Page 58 - My love she's but a lassie yet
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love she's but
las - sie yet,
A light -some love - ly
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las - sie yet ; It scarce wad do To sit an' woo Down by the stream sae glas - sy yet.
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But there's a braw' time com - ing yet, When we may gang 2 a roam - in' yet ; An'
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hint \vi' glee O' joys to be, When fa's the mo - dest gloam - in' yet.
She's neither proud nor saucy yet.
She's neither plump nor gaucy 3 yet ;
But just a jinkin', 4
Bonnie blinkin', 6
Hilty-skilty 6 lassie yet.
But her artless smile's mair sweet
Than hinny or than marmalete ;'
An' right or wrang,
Ere it be lang,
I'll bring her to a parley yet.
I'm jealous o' what blesses her,
The very breeze that kisses her,
The flowery beds
On which she treads,
Though wae for ane that misses her.
Then to meet my lassie yet,
Up in yon glen sae grassy yet ;
For all 1 see
Are nought to me,
Save her thafs but a lassie yet !
1 Fine. - Go.
6 Looking, or smiling kindly.
3 Large, expanded.
* Thoughtlessly playful.
* Shyly gamboling ; dodging
" Marmalade.
" My Love she's but a Lassie yet." The song given in Johnson's Museum, and written by Burns, with the
exception of the three lines which are old, is not exactly suitable to the more fastidious taste of the present day.
Therefore, James Hogg's song, with the same title, has been chosen in preference for this work. It was first pub-
lished in the Edinburgh " Literary Journal," and afterwards in the collection of " Songs by the Ettrick Shepherd,"
Blackwood, Edinburgh, 1831. It appears that the air to which Hogg's words, and the older words were sung, was
also used as a dance-tune, under the name of " Lady Badinscoth's Reel." Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq., in his
Note on No. 225 of Johnson's Museum, says, " The old title of this air was, ' Put up your dagger, Jamie.' The words
to this air are in ' Vox Borealis, or the Northern Discoverie, by way of dialogue between Jamie and Willie,' 1641.
" ' Put up thy dagger, Jamie,
And all things shall be mended,
Bishops shall fall, no not at all,
When the parliament is ended.
Which never was intended,
But only for to flam thee,
We have gotten the game,
We'll keep the same,
Put up thy dagger, Jamie.'
" ' This song,' says the author, ' was plaid and sung by a fiddler and a fool, retainers of General Kuthven, Gover-
nor of Edinburgh Castle, in scorn of the Lords and the Covenanters, for surrendering their strongholds.' "

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