Robert Burns

Jockey was a Bonny Lad

My jockey is a bonny lad, A dainty lad, a merry lad, A neat sweet pretty little lad, An' just the lad for me. For when we o'er the meadows stray, He's ay sae lively ay sae gay, An' aft right canty does he say, There's nane he loes like me. An' he's ay huggin ay dawtin', Ay clappin', ay pressin', Ay squeezin', ay kissin', An' winna let me be. I met my lad the ither day, Friskin' thro' a field o' hay, Says he, dear Jenny, will ye stay, An' crack a while wi me. Na, Jockey lad, I darena stay, My mither she'd miss me away; Syne she'll flyte an' scauld a' day, An' play the diel wi me. But Jockey still continued, Ay huggin ay dawtin', Ay clappin', ay pressin', Ay squeezin', ay kissin', An' winna let me be. Hoot! Jockey, see my hair is down, An' look you've torn a' my gown, An how will I gae thro' the town, Dear laddie tell to me. He never minded what I said, But wi' my neck an' bosom play'd; Tho' I intreated, begg'd an' pray'd Him no to touzle me. But Jockey still continued Huggin', dawtin', clappin', squeezin', An' ay kissin', kissin', kissin', Till down cam we. As breathless an' fatigued I lay, In his arms among the hay, My blood fast thro' my veins did play As he lay huggin' me; I thought my breath wou'd never last, For Jockey danc'd sae devilish fast; But what cam o'er, I trow, at last, There diel ane kens but me. But soon he weari'd o' his dance, O' his jumpin an' his prance, An' he confess'd without romance, He was fain to let me be.

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