Two Scots Folksongs

⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠And dinna be sae rude to me
⁠As kiss me sae before folk.

It wadna gi'e me meikle pain,
Gin we were seen and heard by nane,
To tak' a kiss, or grant you ane;
⁠But guidsake! no before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk;
⁠Whate'er ye do, when out o' view,
⁠Be cautious aye before folk.

Consider, lad, how folk will crack.
And what a great affair they'll mak'
O' naething but a simple smack,
⁠That's gi'en or ta'en before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk;
⁠Nor gi'e the tongue o' auld or young
⁠Occasion to come o'er folk.

It's no through hatred o' a kiss,
That I sae plainly tell you this;
But, losh! I tak' it sair amiss
⁠To be sae teazed before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk;
⁠When we're our lane ye may tak' ane,
⁠But fient a ane before folk.

I'm sure wi' you I've been as free
As ony modest lass should be;
But yet it doesna do to see
⁠Sic freedom used before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk;
⁠I'll ne'er submit again to it —
⁠So mind you that — before folk.

Ye tell me that my face fair;
It may be sae — I dinna care —
But ne'er again gar't blush sae sair
⁠As ye ha'e done before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Nor heat my cheeks wi' your mad freaks,
⁠But aye be douce before folk.

Ye tell me that my lips are sweet,
Sic tales, I doubt, are a' deceit;
At ony rate, its hardly meet
⁠To pree their sweets before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk,
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk;
⁠Gin that's the case, there's time, and place,
⁠But surely no before folk.

But, gin you really do insist
That I should suffer to be kiss'd,
Gae, get a license frae the priest,
⁠And mak' me yours before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk.
⁠Behave yoursel' before folk;
⁠And when we're ane, baith flesh and bane,
⁠Ye may tak' ten — before folk.

THE ANSWER.
⁠Can I behave, can I behave.
⁠Can I behave before folk.
⁠When, wily elf, your sleeky self
⁠Gars me gang gyte before folk?

In a' you do, in a' ye say,
Ye've sic a pawkie coaxing way,
That my poor wits ye lead astray,
⁠An' ding me doilt before folk!
⁠Can I behave, can I behave,
⁠Can I behave before folk.
⁠While ye ensnare, can I forbear
⁠To kiss you, though before folk?

Can I behold that dimpling cheek,
Wliar love 'mang sunny smiles might beek,
Yet, howlet-like, my e'elids steek,
⁠An' shun sic light, before folk?
⁠Can I behave, can I behave.
⁠Can I behave before folk.
⁠When ilka smile becomes a wile.
⁠Enticing me — before folk?

That lip, like Eve's forbidden fruit,
Sweet, plump, an' ripe, sae tempts me to't,
That I maun pree't, though I should rue't,
⁠Ay, twenty times — before folk!
​⁠Can I behave, can I behave,
⁠Can I behave before folk,
⁠When temptingly it offers me
⁠So rich a treat — before folk?

That gowden hair sae sunny bright;
That shapely neck o' snawy white;
That tongue, even when it tries to flyte,
⁠Provokes me till't before folk!
⁠Can I behave, can I behave,
⁠Can I behave before folk,
⁠When ilka charm, young, fresh, an' warm,
⁠Cries, "kiss me now" — before folk?

An' O! that pawkie, rowin' e'e,
Sae roguishly it blinks on me,
I canna, for my saul, let be,
⁠Frae kissing you before folk!
⁠Can I behave, can I behave,
⁠Can I behave before folk,
When ilka glint conveys a hint
⁠To tak' a smack — before folk?

Ye own, that were we baith our lane,
Ye wadna grudge to grant me ane;
Weel, gin there be nae harm in't then,
⁠What harm is in't before folk,
⁠Can I behave, can I behave,
⁠Can I behave before folk,
⁠Sly hypocrite! an anchorite
⁠Could scarce desist — before folk!

But after a' that has been said,
Since ye are willing to be wed,
We'll ha'e a "blythsome bridal" made,
⁠When ye'll be mine before folk!
⁠Then I'll behave, then I'll behave,
⁠Then I'll behave before folk;
⁠For whereas then, ye'll aft get "ten,"
⁠It winna be before folk!

I am my mammy's ae bairn,
  Wi' unco folk I weary, sir;
And lying in a man's bed,
 I'm fley'd it make me eerie1, sir.
     I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young,
       I'm o'er young to marry yet;
     I'm o'er young, 'twad be a sin
       To tak me frae my mammy yet.

My mammie coft me a new gown,
  The kirk maun hae the gracing o’t;
Were I to lie wi’ you, kind Sir,
  I’m feared ye’d spoil the lacing o’t.
     I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young... etc.

Hallowmass is come and gane,
  The nights are lang in winter, sir,
And you an' I in ae bed,
  In trowth, I dare na venture, Sir.
     I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young... etc.

Fu' loud and shill the frosty wind
  Blaws thro' the leafless timmer, sir;
But if ye come this gate again,
  I'll be aulder be gin simmer, sir.
     I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young... etc.