My Tocher's The Jewel
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,
It's a' for the hiney he'll cherish the bee!
My laddie's sae meikle in luve wi' the siller,
He canna hae luve to spare for me!
Your proffer o' luve's an airle-penny,
My tocher's the bargain ye wad buy;
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,
An' ye'll crack ye're credit wi' mair nor me!
My Dowry Is The Jewel
O, much (little) thinks my love of my beauty,
And much (little) thinks my love of my kin (relatives);
But little thinks my love I know finely
My dowry is the jewel (that) has charms for him.
It is all for the apple he will nourish the tree,
It is all for the honey he will cherish the bee!
My laddie is so much in love with the money,
He can not have love to spare for me!
Your offer of love is a hansel-penny,
My dowry is the bargain you would buy;
But if you be crafty, I am cunning,
So you with another your fortune may try.
You are like to the timber of yonder rotten wood,
You are like to the bark of yonder rotten tree:
You will slip from me like a knotless thread,
And you will crack your credit with more not me!