If a body meet a body

Yestreen I met you on the moor,

Ye spake na, but gaed by like stoure!

Ye geck at me because I'm poor,

But fient a hair care I.

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day

Ye wadna been sae shy;

For lack o' gear ye lightly me,

But trowth I care na by.

When comin hame on Sunday last,

Upon the road as I cam past,

Ye snufft an' gae your head a cast —

But, trowth, I care't na by!

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,

Because ye hae the name o' clink,

That ye can please me at a wink,

Whene'er ye like to try.

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...

But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean,

Although his pouch o' coin were clean,

Wha follows ony saucy quean

That looks sae proud and high!

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...

Although a lad were e'er sae smart,

If he but want the yellow dirt,

Ye'll cast your head anither airt,

And answer him fu' dry.

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...

But if he hae the name o' gear,

Ye'll fasten to him like a brier,

Tho' hardly he, for sense or lear,

Be better than the kye.

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...

But Tibbie, lass, tak' my advice:

Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice,

The deil a ane would speir your price,

Were ye as poor as I.

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...

There lives a lass in beside yon park,

[I'd rather hae her in her sark

Than you wi' a' your thousand mark,

That gars you look sae high.]

O Tibbie! I hae seen the day...