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Bonnie lass

Bonnie lass! bonnie lass! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt neither wash dishes nor serve the swine,
But sit on a cushion and sow up a seam,
And thou shalt have strawberries, sugar, and cream.

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Bye baby bunting,
Father's gone a hunting,
To get a little rabbit-skin,
To lap his little baby in.

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Bye, O my baby,
When I was a lady,
Oh then my poor babe didn't cry;
But my baby is weeping,
For want of good keeping,
Oh! I fear my poor baby will die.