V.
My lady’s dink, my lady’s drest,
The flower and fancy o’ the west;
But the lassie that a man lo’es best,
O that’s the lass to make him blest.
My lady’s gown, there’s gairs upon’t,
And gowden flowers sae rare upon’t;
But Jenny’s jimps and jirkinet,
My lord thinks meikle mair upon’t.
CLXXVI.
AMANG THE TREES.
Tune—“The King of France, he rade a race.”
[Burns wrote these verses in scorn of those, and they are many, who prefer
“The capon craws and queer ha ha’s!”
of emasculated Italy to the original and delicious airs, Highland and Lowland, of old Caledonia: the song is a fragment—the more’s the pity.]
I.