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Oh! But Sweet is Love ©

Alexander Orr
Glasgow, Scotland
1882

Oh! but sweet is love when it's warm an' pure,
Giff the lassie that ye lo'e returns it;
But, faith, it chills like a cauld water cure,
When the prood fickle jaud she spurns it.
But, it does nae guid to chaumer or fret,
Greetin' ne'er won the heart o' a lassie,
But let her see anither ye can get,
She'll ablins no be then jist sae saucy.

I've kenn'd some' queans wha were ne'er content?
But wi' rich gaudy gear tae adorn them;
To look fu' gran' was the hicht o' their bent,
As for lads o' their rank they wad scorn them.
I ha'e seen the same jauds as time wore on,
When the wrinkles an' grey hairs were showin'
Wi' gey ord'nar chiel's they wad try't hard on,
Gled to snap ony chance that was goin'.

Beauty at the best only fills the e'e,
But sma' time mak's it wither an' perish;
An' tho' hot-house flowers are bonnie to see,
There's mair perfume in plain hawthorn flourish.
An' it's whiles the lass without beauty's trace,
That's maist worthy o' a true man's wooing
An' a life-vow ta'en for a pretty face,
Is gey apt to bring a lifetime's ruing.


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