There’s a Youth In This City (Poem by Robert Burns)

Old Poem

There’s a Youth In This City (1)
By Robert Burns


            There’s a youth in this city,
            It were a great pity
That he frae our lasses shou’d wander awa:
            For he’s bonnie an’ braw,
            Weel-favour’d an’ a’,
And his hair has a natural buckle an’ a’.
            His coat is the hue
            Of his bonnet sae blue;
His feck it is white as the new-driven snaw;
            His hose they are blae,
            And his shoon like the slae.
And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a’.

There’s a Youth In This City (2)

            For beauty and fortune
            The laddie’s been courtin’;
Weel-featured, weel-tocher’d, weel-mounted and braw;
            But chiefly the siller,
            That gars him gang till her,
The pennie’s the jewel that beautifies a’.
            There’s Meg wi’ the mailen
            That fain wad a haen him;
And Susie, whose daddy was laird o’ the ha’;
            There’s lang-tocher’d Nancy
            Maist fetters his fancy —
But the laddie’s dear sel’ he lo’es dearest of a’.


Note:
"This air," says Burns, "is claimed by Neil Gow, who calls it a Lament for his Brother. The first half-stanza of the song is old: the rest is mine." They are both in the Museum.

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