VII.
“Haud aff your hands, young man,” she says,
“And dinna sae uncivil be:
If ye hae onto love for me,
O wrang na my virginitie!”
VIII.
Her hair was like the links o’ gowd,
Her teeth were like the ivorie;
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me.
IX.
Her bosom was the driven snaw,
Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see;
Her limbs the polish’d marble stane,
The lass that made the bed to me.
X.
I kiss’d her owre and owre again,
And ay she wist na what to say;
I laid her between me and the wa’—
The lassie thought na lang till day.
XI.
Upon the morrow when we rose,
I thank’d her for her courtesie;
But aye she blush’d, and aye she sigh’d,
And said, “Alas! ye’ve ruin’d me.”