The poem
Chorus—Mally’s meek, Mally’s sweet, Mally’s modest and discreet; Mally’s rare, Mally’s fair, Mally’s every way complete.
AS I was walking up the street, A barefit maid I chanc’d to meet; But O the road was very hard For that fair maiden’s tender feet. Mally’s meek, &c.
It were mair meet that those fine feet Were weel laced up in silken shoon; An’ ’twere more fit that she should sit Within yon chariot gilt aboon, Mally’s meek, &c.
Her yellow hair, beyond compare, Comes trinklin down her swan-like neck, And her two eyes, like stars in skies, Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck, Mally’s meek, &c.