They flatter, she says, to deceive me;
But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen?
My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him, if
He'll gie me guid hunder marks ten: hundred
But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen?
Yestreen at the Valentine's dealing, Last night
My heart to my mou gied a sten: mouth gave a leap
For thrice I drew ane without failing,