This text comes from The Book of Scottish Song, edited by Alexander Whitelaw, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Jockey fou, Jenny fain;
Jenny was na ill to gain:
She was couthie, he was kind;
And thus the wooer tell'd his mind:
Jenny, I'll nae mair be nice;
Gi'e me love at ony price:
I winna prig for red or white,
Love alane can gi'e delyte.
Others seek they kenna what,
In looks, in carriage, and a' that;
Gi'e me love for her I court:
Love in love makes a' the sport.
Let love sparkle in her e'e,
Let her love nae man but me:
That's the tocher-gude I prize;
There the lover's treasure lies.
Colours mingled unco fine,
Common notions lang sinsyne,
Never can engage my love,
Until my fancy first approve.
It is nae meat, but appetite,
That makes our eating a delyte;
Beauty is at best deceit;
Fancy only kens nae cheat.