Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 338. Song—My Tocher’s the Jewel |
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| O MEIKLE thinks my luve o’ my beauty, | |
| And meikle thinks my luve o’ my kin; | |
| But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie | |
| My tocher’s the jewel has charms for him. | |
| It’s a’ for the apple he’ll nourish the tree, | 5 |
| It’s a’ for the hinny he’ll cherish the bee, | |
| My laddie’s sae meikle in luve wi’ the siller, | |
| He canna hae luve to spare for me. | |
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| Your proffer o’ luve’s an airle-penny, | |
| My tocher’s the bargain ye wad buy; | 10 |
| But an ye be crafty, I am cunnin’, | |
| Sae ye wi anither your fortune may try. | |
| Ye’re like to the timmer o’ yon rotten wood, | |
| Ye’re like to the bark o’ yon rotten tree, | |
| Ye’ll slip frae me like a knotless thread, | 15 |
| And ye’ll crack your credit wi’ mae nor me. | |
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