III.

And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blest, The brightest o' beauty may cloy when possest; But the sweet yellow darlings wi' Geordie imprest, The langer ye hae them--the mair they're carest. Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher, Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher; Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher, The nice yellow guineas for me.

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