My mither's ay glowrin o'er me

My mither's ay glowrin o'er me,

Though she did the same before me,

I canna get leave to look at my Love,

Or else she'll be like to devour me.

Right fain wad I take your offer,

Sweet Sir, but I'll tine my tocher;

Then, Sandy, you'll fret, and wyte your poor Kate,

Whene'er ye keek in your toom coffer.

For though my father has plenty

Of siller, and plenishing dainty,

Yet he's unco swear to twin wi' his gear;

And sae we had need to be tenty.

Tutor my parents wi' caution,

Be wylie in ilka motion;

Brag weel o' ye'r land, and there's my leal hand,

Win them, I'll be at your devotion.