COMIN' THRO' THE RYE
O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin' thro' the rye.
Comin' thro' the rye, poor body,
Comin' thro' the rye,
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin' thro' the rye!
Gin a body meet a body—
Comin' thro' the rye;
Gin a body kiss a body—
Need a body cry?
Gin a body meet a body
Comin' thro' the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body—
Need the warld ken?
Jenny's a' weet, poor body;
Jenny's seldom dry;
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin' thro' the rye.
PHILLIS THE FAIR
While larks with little wing
Fann'd the pure air,
Tasting the breathing spring,
Forth I did fare:
Gay the sun's golden eye
Peep'd o'er the mountains high;
'Such thy morn,' did I cry,
'Phillis the fair!'