Chapter 964 of 1414 · 57 words · ~1 min read

II.

O steer her up, and be na blate, An' gin she take it ill, jo, Then lea'e the lassie till her fate, And time nae longer spill, jo: Ne'er break your heart for ae rebute, But think upon it still, jo, That gin the lassie winna do't, Ye'll fin' anither will, jo.

* * * * *