tocher

O meikle thinks my love o' my beauty,
And meikle thinks my love o' my kin,
But little thinks my love I ken brawlie
My tocher's the jewel has charms for him.

It's all for the apple he'll nourish the tree,
It's all for the honey he'll cherish the bee;
My laddie's sae meikle in love with the siller
He canna hae love tae spare for me.

Your proffer o' love's an earnest penny;
My tocher's the bargain ye will buy
And though ye be crafty, I am cunning
Sae ye with another your fortune maun try.

You're like tae the timmer on yon rotten wood
You're like tae the bark on yon rotten tree
For ye are sae meikle in love wi' the siller
Ye canna hae love tae spare for me.