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My love she's but a lassie yet, My love she's but a lassie yet; We'll let her stand a year or twa, She'll no be half sae saucy yet. I rue the day I sought her O, I rue the day I sought her O, Wha gets her needs na say he's woo'd, But he may say he's bought her O. Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet, Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet: Gae seek for Pleasure whare ye will, But here I never misst it yet. We're a' dry wi' drinking o't, We're a' dry wi' drinking o't: The minister kisst the fidler's wife, He could na preach for thinking o't.
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