Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Georgian Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Georgian Verse.  1909.
 
My Love She’s but a Lassie Yet
By James Hogg (1770–1835)
 
MY love she’s but a lassie yet,
A lightsome lovely lassie yet;
    It scarce wad do
    To sit and woo
Down by the stream sae glassy yet.        5
 
But there’s a braw time coming yet,
When we may gang a roaming yet;
    An’ hint wi’ glee
    O’ joys to be,
When fa’s the modest gloaming yet.        10
 
She’s neither proud nor saucy yet,
She’s neither plump nor gaucy yet;
    But just a jinking,
    Bonny blinking,
Hilty-skilty lassie yet.        15
 
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.        20
 
I’m jealous o’ what blesses her,
The very breeze that kisses her,
    The flowery beds
    On which she treads,
Though wae for ane that misses her.        25
 
Then O to meet my lassie yet,
Up in yon glen sae grassy yet;
    For all I see
    Are nought to me,
Save her that’s but a lassie yet.        30
 
 
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