THE ROSIE CHEEK.
SONG XXIX.
1
Once I lov'd a rosie cheek,
Fool I was to wooe sae;
Once I lov'd a daisie lip,
I'll daute nae mair a posie;
Sweet is a rose to smell and pou,
When balmy is its crimson mou,
But there's a worm amang the dew;
'Tis nothing but a posie.
2
Ae day I met a rosie cheek,
Amang the dew of even
Wi' an e'e that kend nae ill but love,
Could wyled a saint from heaven:
But, though sweet love's divinest lowe,
Warm in those rosie cheeks did glow,
Where pity has forgot to grow,
'Tis but a posie living.
3
Woman thour't but a bairnlie playke,
Wi' nought but beauty's blossom;
But, thour't a flow'r of heavenly pow'r,
Wi' pity in thy bosom:
Wi' a' thy smiles, wi' a' thy charms,
Wi' a' thy failings, and thy harsm,
Thour't lovlier in a bodies arms,
Than ought that wears a blossom!
