Yon Perfect Southern Lass
Through all my youth Dunedin toon has been sae fu‘ of beauty,
Tae find that paragon sae fair, has been ma bounden duty.
Ah‘ve lo‘ed them a‘, and tracked them doon, thro' daylight hoors an‘ darkness,
And when they‘re in my arms again, I‘ve marvelled at their starkness.
The perfect lass, Ah‘ll tell ye noo, my memory‘s fast recedin‘,
Is made from mony a charmer frae the suburbs o‘ Dunedin.
And as I sit at Stuart‘s foot, my back turned on the kirkin‘,
Ah‘ll put her all togither, as my mind like fever‘s workin‘.
Her hair belonged to Mosgiel‘s Jean, whose lovely auburn tresses,
Wad make me wish she lived in toon, at handier addresses.
Her eyes belonged to Caversham, where Alice lived in splendour,
She only had to open them, to have me sigh so tender.
Her ankles are from Woodhaugh‘s Claire, and as I walked behind her,
She need not turn her face to me, those well-turned pins would find her.
The hips and thighs of ample Sal, who wooed me round St Kilda,
Were all the contours I traversed, with heavenly form they filled her.
Anither love was Roslyn‘s Rose, her waist and bosom famous,
And when a lass has parts like that, it‘s simple fare to tame us.
The lips belonged to Belleknowes Jane, her kiss was so inviting,
I couldna stop at ane alone, my fervent needs requiting.
The twinkling feet and lively legs were Caversham‘s Ramona‘s,
We‘d dance sae crazy, all oor friends were ready to disown us.
The slinky arms from Maori Hill belonged to little Mavis,