It wouldna give me meikle pain,
Gin we were seen and heard by nane,
To tak a kiss or grant you ane;
But gudesake! no before folk.
Behave yoursell before folk,
Behave yoursell before folk,
Whate'er you do when out of view,
Be cautious aye before folk.
Consider, lad, how folks will crack,
And what a great affair they'll mak
O' naething but a simple smack
That's gien or taen before folk.
Behave yoursell before folk,
Behave yoursell before folk,
Nor gie the tongue o' auld or young
Occasion to come o'er folk.
I'm sure wi' you I've been as free,
As ony modest lass should be,
But yet it doesna do to see
Sic freedom used before folk.
Behave yoursell before folk,
Behave yoursell before folk,
I'll ne'er submit again to it—
So mind you that-before folk.
Ye tell me that my face is fair;
may be sae-I dinna care-
But ne'er again gar't blush sae sair
ye hae done before folk. Behave yoursell before folk,
Behave yoursell before folk,
Nor heat my cheeks wi' your mad freaks, But aye be douce before folk.
Ye tell me that my lips are sweet;
Sic tales, I doubt, are a' deceit :
At ony rate, it's hardly meet
To prie their sweets before folk.
Behave yoursell before folk,
Behave yoursell before folk,
Gin that's the case, there's time and place,
But surely no before folk.
But gin ye really do insist
That I should suffer to be kiss'd,
Gae get a license frae the priest,
And mak me yours before folk.
Behave yoursell before folk,
Behave yoursell before folk,
And when we're ane, baith flesh and bane, tak ten-before folk.
GAE bring to me a stoup o' wine,
Gae fill it to the ee,
That I may drink a deep deep health
Gae bring to me a wooer youth,
That I, to ease my woes,
May brag my Gowan o' the West
Against his Southern Rose.
She may be gentle, thy heart's love,
She may be fair and fine,
But, by the heaven abune our head,
She canna be like mine.
Oh, her cheek's like the rosie glow
That maks the burdies chirl;
Her ee is like the lichtnin's lowe,
That gars the heart-strings dirl.
Her lips are like the cherries twin
That grow upon ae shank;
Her breath-it beats the simmer win'
In the lowne o' a flowery bank.
Her neck is like the siller stoure
That oozes frae the linu;
Her breist-oh! it's a lilie bouir,
That ane wad fain lie in.
Awa, awa, ye wooer youth!
Yours may be fair and fine;
But, by the heaven abune our heads,
She canna be like mine.
DRINK it yet, drink it yet,
We're no just sae fou but we'll drink it yet;
To the name that is dear, though we winna tell here,
We'll tout aff a bumper, and think it yet.
It's never o'er late when sittin' wi' you;
The warst that can happen is only get fou;
But though we get fou, we'll never forget
Our Friend an' our Lassie-Sae drink it yet.
Drink it yet, &c.
They say whan drink's in, that wit it is out,
But he that says sae is a knave and a lout;
For what gi'eth life to friendship an' wit
Like a fu' sparklin' glass ?-Sae drink it yet.
Drink it yet, &c.
It is nae sae aften I meet wi' ye a';
Time enough to be sad when gangin' awa';
A charm's in the bowl round which gude friends sit,
An' the spell to awaken't, is "Drink it yet!"
Drink it yet, &c.
When Fate, fickle jade! throws friends in our way,
'Tis a moment o' sunshine in life's winter day;
Then, ere the clouds gather, and joy's sunset,
Let the pass-word to pleasure be-" Drink it yet."
Drink it yet, drink it yet,
We're no just sae fou but we'll drink it yet;
To the name that is dear, though we winna tell here, In a fu' flowin' bumper we'll think it yet.
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