Saa now, ye young women, saa bonny an’ breet,
Just tak the advice that I give ye to-neet ;
I isn’t ower-burden’d wi’ knowledge myself,
But, still, there’s part truth i’ what I’ve to tell ;
An’ I hope, i’ my heart, ye’ll nut tak it amiss,
For what I intend to say to ye, is this : —
If ivver a fellow that’s fond of his beer,
Comes to whisper a meltin’ love-taal i’ yer ear,
Says, wi’ words smooth and oily, if ye’ll be his wife,
Ye’s hev a snug haam au t’ rest o’ your life,
That he’ll caar for ye weel, if wi’ him ye will dwell,
When au t’ time he’s nut fit to tak caar of hissel ;
Just bid him begone, an’ ne’er com again,
Unless from strang drink he’ll consent to abstain ;
An’, if he likes ye, he’ll do it, depend on ’t,
But if drink he likes better, wha, then there’s an end on ’t ;
An’ ye’d better be single au t’ days o’ yer life,
Than be caud by this naam — “ A drucken man’s wife. ”
Just calmly consider what a comfortless lot
Wad be yowers, if he happen to turn out a sot ;
Yer snug, tidy haam — whar then wad it be,
If strang drink he liked better than what he liked ye ?
Yer hopes o’ prosperity wad fade an’ decay,
An’ yer dreams o’ true happiness au pass away.
Love for ye an’ respect for hissel au departed,
Ye mud live in a cellar, an’ dee brokken-hearted.
Saa, now, young an’ owd, be ye woman or man,
Come an’ join — heart an’ hand — an’ assist the good plan ;
Come an’ help to do good, for room there is ample :
If ye can’t mak a speech — let’s hev yer example.
Like sisters an’ brothers, let’s join hand i’ hand,
An’ feight wi’ this monster — the curse of the land ;
And when fra the kingdom he’s banish’d away,
We’ll all wave wer hats, an’ shout hip, hip, hurra !