The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
 | I. |
 | II. |
|
|
|
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The works of Allan Ramsay |  |
THE GENEROUS GENTLEMAN.
As I came in by Tiviot Side,
And by the Braes of Branksom,
There first I saw my bony Bride,
Young, smiling, sweet and handsome:
Her Skin was safter than the Down,
And white as Alabastar;
Her Hair a shining wavy Brown;
In Straightness nane surpast her;
And by the Braes of Branksom,
There first I saw my bony Bride,
Young, smiling, sweet and handsome:
Her Skin was safter than the Down,
And white as Alabastar;
Her Hair a shining wavy Brown;
In Straightness nane surpast her;
Life glow'd upon her Lip and Cheek,
Her clear Een were surprising,
And beautifully turn'd her Neck,
Her little Breasts just rising:
Nae Silken Hose, with Gooshets fine,
Or Shoon with glancing Laces,
On her fair Leg, forbad to shine,
Well shapen native Graces.
Her clear Een were surprising,
And beautifully turn'd her Neck,
Her little Breasts just rising:
Nae Silken Hose, with Gooshets fine,
Or Shoon with glancing Laces,
On her fair Leg, forbad to shine,
Well shapen native Graces.
Ae little Coat, and Bodice white,
Was Sum of a' her Claithing;
Even these o'er mickle; . . . mair Delyte
She'd given cled wi' naithing:
She leand upon a flowry Brae,
By which a Burny troted;
On her I glowr'd my Saul away,
While on her Sweets I doated.
Was Sum of a' her Claithing;
Even these o'er mickle; . . . mair Delyte
She'd given cled wi' naithing:
She leand upon a flowry Brae,
By which a Burny troted;
On her I glowr'd my Saul away,
While on her Sweets I doated.
65
A thousand Beauties of Desert,
Before had scarce allarm'd me,
'Till this dear Artless struck my Heart,
And bot designing, charm'd me.
Hurry'd by Love, close to my Breast
I grasp'd this Fund of Blisses:
Wha smil'd, and said, Without a Priest,
Sir, hope for nought but Kisses.
Before had scarce allarm'd me,
'Till this dear Artless struck my Heart,
And bot designing, charm'd me.
Hurry'd by Love, close to my Breast
I grasp'd this Fund of Blisses:
Wha smil'd, and said, Without a Priest,
Sir, hope for nought but Kisses.
I had nae Heart to do her Harm,
And yet I coudna want her;
What she demanded, ilka Charm
Of her's pled, I shou'd grant her.
Since Heaven had dealt to me a Rowth,
Straight to the Kirk I led her,
There plighted her my Faith and Trowth,
And a young Lady made her.
And yet I coudna want her;
What she demanded, ilka Charm
Of her's pled, I shou'd grant her.
Since Heaven had dealt to me a Rowth,
Straight to the Kirk I led her,
There plighted her my Faith and Trowth,
And a young Lady made her.
| The works of Allan Ramsay | |