Classic Poem

For arles he gae me a kiss,
An' twa ilka day was my fee;
A bargain nae surely amiss,
If paid where naebody could see.

But scarce was the compact complete
Ere I would hae broken 't again,
The arles he gae were sae sweet,
For mair o' them, Sirs, I was fain.

It 's braw wi' the tweezlock to twine
Lang rapes in the barn sae lythe,
Yet better by far when it 's fine,
An' I gaither after his scythe.

O busy 's the banster at e'en,
Till bedtime he sits an' he glooms,
Ah' aye he cries ‘Lassie, a preen,'
An' worries the stobs in his thooms.

The laddie is tired wi' the rake,
Sleep soon puts a steek in his e'e,
An' I slip awa' to the break
An' cannily gather my fee.