T IBBY has a store of charms,
Her genty shape our fancy warms,
How starkly can her sma' white arms
Fetter the lad wha looks but at her!
Frae ancle to her slender waist,
These sweets conceal'd invite to dawt her,
Her rosie cheek and rising breast
Gar ane's mouth gush bowt fou' o' water.

Nelly's gawsy, saft and gay,
Fresh as the lucken flowers in May,
Ilk ane that sees her cries, Ah hey!
She 's bonny, O I wonder at her!
The dimples of her chin and cheek,
And limbs sae plump invite to dawt her,
Her lips sae sweet, and skin sae sleek,
Gar mony mouths beside mine water.

Now strike my finger in a bore,
My wyzen with the maiden shore,
Gin I can tell whilk I am for,
When these twa stars appear the gither.
O love! why dost thou gi'e thy fires
Sae large, while we 're oblig'd to nither
Our spacious sauls' immense desires,
And ay be in a hankerin swither?

Tibby's shape and airs are fine,
And Nelly's beauties are divine;
But since they canna baith be mine,
Ye gods! give ear to my petition,
Provide a good lad for the tane,
But let it be with this provision,
I get the other to my lane,
In prospect plano and fruition.