| |
| NOW wat ye wha I met yestreen | |
| Coming down the street, my jo? | |
| My mistress, in her tartan screen, | |
| Fu’ bonnie, braw, and sweet, my jo. | |
| ‘My dear,’ quoth I, ‘thanks to the night | 5 |
| That never wished a lover ill; | |
| Since ye’re out o’ your mither’s sight, | |
| Let’s tak’ a walk up to the hill. | |
| |
| ‘O Katie, wiltu gang wi’ me, | |
| And leave the dinsome town a while? | 10 |
| The blossom’s sprouting frae the tree, | |
| And a’ the simmer’s gaen to smile. | |
| The mavis, nightingale, and lark, | |
| The bleating lambs and whistling hind, | |
| In ilka dale, green, shaw, and park, | 15 |
| Will nourish health and glad ye’r mind. | |
| |
| ‘Soon as the clear guidman o’ day | |
| Does bend his morning draught o’ dew, | |
| We’ll gae to some burn side and play, | |
| And gather flowers to busk your brow. | 20 |
| We’ll pu’ the daisies on the green, | |
| The lucken-gowans frae the bog; | |
| Between hands now and then we’ll lean, | |
| And sport upon the velvet fog. | |
| |
| ‘There’s up into a pleasant glen, | 25 |
| A wee piece frae my father’s tower, | |
| A canny, saft, and flowery den, | |
| Which circling birks ha’e formed a bower; | |
| Whene’er the sun grows high and warm, | |
| We’ll to the cauler shade remove; | 30 |
| There will I lock thee in my arm, | |
| And love and kiss, and kiss and love.’ | |
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