o' miss' bonnet.

  my sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,

  as plump an' grey as ony groset:

  o for some rank, mercurial rozet,

  or fell, red smeddum,

  i'd gie you sic a hearty dose o't,

  wad dress your droddum.

  i wad na been surpris'd to spy

  you on an auld wife's flainen toy;

  or aiblins some bit dubbie boy,

  on's wyliecoat;

  but miss' fine lunardi! fye!

  how daur ye do't?

  o jeany, dinna toss your head,

  an' set your beauties a' abread!

  ye little ken what cursed speed

  the blastie's makin:

  thae winks an' finger-ends, i dread,

  are notice takin.

  o wad some power the giftie gie us

  to see oursels as ithers see us!

  it wad frae mony a blunder free us,

  an' foolish notion:

  what airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,

  an' ev'n devotion!