Not identical to
My Love she's but a Lassie yet
(R32, 2/4L,
RSCDS IX
4).
My Love She's But A Lassie Yet
There are two versions of this song. The first is by Robert Burns.
My love she’s but a lassie yet,
My love she’s but a lassie yet;
I’ll let her stand a year or twa’,
She’ll no be half sae saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O,
I rue the day I sought her, O,
Wha gets her need na say he’s woo’d,
But he may swear he’s bought her, O.
Come draw a drap o’ the best o’t yet,
Come draw a drap o’ the best o’t yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never miss’d it yet.
We’re a’ dry wi’ the drinkin’ o’t,
We’re a’ dry wi’ the drinkin’ o’t;
The minister kiss’d the fiddler’s wife,
An’ couldna preach for thinkin’ o’t.
Stenhouse said of this song:
“The title and the last half stanza are old;
the rest was composed by Burns.”
The cheerful air to which the verses are adapted was also used as a dancing tune,
under the name of ”Lady Badinscoth’s Reel …”
Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe (1781–1851) stated though
that the old title of the air was “Put up your dagger, Jamie”
and was used in
Vox Borealis, or The Northern Discoverie
in 1641.
The second version is by James Hogg (1770–1853) who was known as “The Ettrick Shepherd”.
The tune used by Hogg was also “Lady Badinscoth’s Reel”.
My love she’s but a lassie yet,
A lightsome, lovely lassie yet;
It scarce wad do to sit an’ woo,
Down by the stream sae glassy yet.
But there’s a braw time comin’ yet,
When we may gang a roamin’ yet,
An’ hint wi’ glee o’ joys to be,
When fa’s the modest gloamin’ yet.
She’s neither proud nor saucy yet,
She’s neither plump nor gaucy yet;
But just a jinkin’, bonnie, blinkin’
Hilty skilty lassie yet.
But O her artless smile’s mair sweet
Than hinny or than marmalete;
An’ right or wrang, ere it be lang,
I’ll bring her to a parley yet.
I’m jealous o’ what blesses her,
The very breeze that kisses her,
The flow’ry beds on which she treads,
Though wae fore ane that misses her.
Then O to meet my lassie yet,
Up in yon glen sae grassy yet;
For a’ I see are nought to me,
Save her that’s but a lassie yet.
From “Scotland Dances”, by Eugenia (Jeannie) Callander Sharp
(Used by permission.)