| |
| O, SAW ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing? | |
| Saw ye my true-love, down on yon lea? | |
| Crossed she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin’? | |
| Sought she the burnie whare flowers the haw-tree? | |
| Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white; | 5 |
| Dark is the blue o’ her saft rolling e’e; | |
| Red, red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses: | |
| Whare could my wee thing wander frae me?” | |
| |
| “I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing, | |
| Nor saw I your true-love, down on yon lea; | 10 |
| But I met my bonnie thing, late in the gloamin’, | |
| Down by the burnie whare flowers the haw-tree. | |
| Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-white; | |
| Dark was the blue o’ her saft rolling e’e; | |
| Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses: | 15 |
| Sweet were the kisses that she ga’e to me!” | |
| |
| “It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing, | |
| It was na my true-love, ye met by the tree: | |
| Proud is her leal heart, modest her nature; | |
| She never lo’ed ony till ance she lo’ed me. | 20 |
| Her name it is Mary; she ’s frae Castlecary; | |
| Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee: | |
| Fair as your face is, were ’t fifty times fairer, | |
| Young bragger, she ne’er would gi’e kisses to thee.” | |
| |
| “It was, then, your Mary; she ’s frae Castlecary; | 25 |
| It was, then, your true-love I met by the tree;— | |
| Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature, | |
| Sweet were the kisses that she ga’e to me.” | |
| Sair gloomed his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew; | |
| Wild flashed the fire frae his red rolling e’e,— | 30 |
| “Ye ’s rue sair, this morning, your boasts and your scorning; | |
| Defend ye, fause traitor! fu’ loudly you lee.” | |
| |
| “Awa’ wi’ beguiling,” cried the youth, smiling. | |
| Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee; | |
| The belted plaid fa’ing, her white bosom shawing, | 35 |
| Fair stood the lo’ed maid wi’ the dark rolling e’e. | |
| “Is it my wee thing? is it my ain thing? | |
| Is it my true-love here that I see?” | |
| “O Jamie, forgi’e me! your heart ’s constant to me; | |
| I ’ll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!” | 40 |
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