JAMIE O'THE GLEN.
Auld Rob the laird o' muckle land
To woo me was na very blate,
But spite o' a' his gear, he sand
He came to woo a day ower late.
A lad sae blythe, sae fu' o' glee,
My heart did never, never ken,
And nane can gie sic joy to me,
As Jamie o' the glen.
My minny grat like daft, and raved,
To gar me wi' her will comply,
But still I wadna hae the laird,
Wi' a' his ousen, sheep, and kye.
A lad sae blythe, &c.
Ah, what are silks and satins braw?
What's a' his warldly gear to me?
They're daft that cast themselves awa,
Whar nae content nor love can be.
A lad sae blythe, &c.
I couldna bide the silly clash
Came hourly frae the gawkie laird,
And sae, to stop his gab and lash,
With Jamie to the kirk repaired.
A lad sae blythe, &c.
Now ilk simmer's day sae lang,
And winter's clad wi' frost and snaw,
A tunelu' lilt and bonny sang,
Aye keep dull care and strife awa.
A lad sae blythe, &c.