How kind her looks, how blest was I,
While in my arms I press'd her!
And she her wishes scarce conceal'd,
As fondly I caress'd her.
She said, If that your heart be true.
If constantly you'll love me,
I heed not care, nor fortune's frowns,
For nought but death shall move me.
But faithful, loving, true, and kind.
For ever you shall find me,
And of our meeting here so sweet,
Loch-Erroch sweet shall mind me.
Enraptur'd then, My lovely lass,
I cried, no more we'll tarry!
We'll leave the fair Loch-Erroch side.
For lovers soon should marry.