Peter Cornclips | ||
“O HOW CAN YOU GANG LASSIE.”
“O how can you gang lassie, how can you gang,
“O how can you gang sae to grieve me?
“Wi' your beauty, and your art ye hae broken my heart,
“For I never, never dreamt ye could leave me.”
Ah wha wad hae thought that sae bonnie a face,
Could e'er wear a smile to deceive me?
Or that guile in that fair bosom could e'er find a place,
And that you wad break your vows thus, and leave me?
“O how can you gang sae to grieve me?
“Wi' your beauty, and your art ye hae broken my heart,
“For I never, never dreamt ye could leave me.”
Ah wha wad hae thought that sae bonnie a face,
Could e'er wear a smile to deceive me?
Or that guile in that fair bosom could e'er find a place,
And that you wad break your vows thus, and leave me?
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O have you not mind, when our names you entwined,
In a wreath, round the purse, you did weave me?
Or have you now forgot the once-dear trysting spot,
Where so oft you pledged your faith ne'er to leave me?
But, changing as wind is your light fickle mind;
Your smiles, tokens, vows, all deceive me;
No more, then, I'll trust, to such frail painted dust,
But bewail my fate, till kind death relieve me.
In a wreath, round the purse, you did weave me?
Or have you now forgot the once-dear trysting spot,
Where so oft you pledged your faith ne'er to leave me?
But, changing as wind is your light fickle mind;
Your smiles, tokens, vows, all deceive me;
No more, then, I'll trust, to such frail painted dust,
But bewail my fate, till kind death relieve me.
Then gang fickle fair to your new-fangled jo,
Yes, gang, and in wretchedness leave me,
But, alas! should you be doomed to a wedlock of woe,
Ah, how would your unhappiness grieve me;
For, Mary! all faithless and false as thou art,
Thy spell-binding glances, believe me,
So closely are entwined round this fond foolish heart,
That the grave alone, of them can bereave me.
Yes, gang, and in wretchedness leave me,
But, alas! should you be doomed to a wedlock of woe,
Ah, how would your unhappiness grieve me;
For, Mary! all faithless and false as thou art,
Thy spell-binding glances, believe me,
So closely are entwined round this fond foolish heart,
That the grave alone, of them can bereave me.
Peter Cornclips | ||