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Genty Tibby and Sonsy Nelly.

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To the Tune of Tibby Fowler in the Glen.

Tibby has a Store of Charms,
Her genty Shape our Fancy warms,
How starkly can her sma' white Arms
Fetter the Lad wha looks but at her;
Frae Ancle to her slender Waste,
These Sweets conceal'd invite to dawt her,
Her rosie Cheek and rising Breast,
Gar ane's Mouth gush bowt fou' o' Water.
Nelly's gawsy, saft and gay,
Fresh as the lucken Flowers in May,
Ilk ane that sees her cries Ah hey!
She's bonny, O I wonder at her!
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The Dimples of her Chin and Cheek,
And Limbs sae plump invite to dawt her,
Her Lips sae sweet, and Skin sae sleek,
Gar mony Mouths beside mine water.
Now strike my Finger in a Bore,
My Wyson with the Maiden shore,
Gin I can tell whilk I am for
When these twa Stars appear thegether.
O Love! Why dost thou gi'e thy Fires
Sae large? while we're oblig'd to nither
Our spacious Sauls immense Desires,
And ay be in a hankerin Swither.
Tibby's Shape and Airs are fine,
And Nelly's Beauties are divine;
But since they canna baith be mine,
Ye Gods give Ear to my Petition,
Provide a good Lad for the tane,
But let it be with this Provision,
I get the other to my lane,
In Prospect plano and Fruition.
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