Chapter 567 of 1414 · 61 words · ~1 min read

I.

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, Shell no be half so 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!