TIBBY, I hae seen the day
Ye wadna been sae shy
For laik o' gear ye lightly me
But trowth I care na by

Yestreen I met you on the Moor,
Ye spak’na but gaed by like stour
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,
But fien a hair care I.

[When comin’ hame on Sunday last
Upon the road as I cam’ past
Ye snufft an’ ga'e your head a cast
But trowth I caretna by. ]

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think
Because ye hae the name o' clink
That ye can please me at a wink
Whene'er ye like to try

But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean
Altho' his pouch o' coin were clean
Wha follows ony saucy Quean
That looks sae proud and high

Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart
If that he want the yellow dirt
Ye'll cast your head anither airt
And answer him fu' dry

But if he hae the name o' gear
Ye'll fasten to him like a breer
Tho' hardly he for sense or lear,
Be better than the ky

But Tibby lass tak' my advice
Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice
The de’il a ane wad speir your price
Were ye as poor as I

[There lives a lass beside yon park
I'd rather hae her in her sark
Than you wi' a' your thousand mark
That gars you look sae high

An’ Tibby I hae seen the day
Ye wadna been sae shy
An’ for the laik ye lightly me
But fien’ a hair cae I.]