To chairs that day.
O happy is that man an' blest!
Nae wonder that it pride him!
Whase ain dear lass, that he likes best,
Comes clinkin' down beside him! Sits snugly
Wi' arm repos'd on the chair-back
He sweetly does compose him;
Which, by degrees, slips round her neck,
An's loof upon her bosom, And his palm
Unkenn'd that day. Unacknowledged