My Lass

Come share my harvest wi' me,
     Come and tak a cup o' dear;
We maun be cantie and free,
     O shed no a bitter tear.

We shall dine an' time fu' mak,
     If we gie into oursel';
Hauld the glass—anither tak,
     For auld time an' for mysel'.

Let us joyfu' awa pass,
     Your hand into mine weel press'd;
Sic a bonnie, bonnie lass,
     If you'd hae me I'd be bless'd!

Years hae pass'd an' now you're mine,
     Never did I think twad be;
Ach, my bonnie lass, you're fine,
     Now I hae you a' to me!!


~Timothy~

In the style of Robert Burns, 1759—1796. Written in Scots Brogue.

© Timothy 13 October, 2012