My Nannie, O.
[This is one of Burns's early songs—and one of his best. The heroine was a servant-girl at Calcothill, near Lochlea, by name Agnes Fleming. The air is very old.]
Behind yon hills, where Lugar flows,
'Mang moors and mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
And I'll awa' to Nannie, O.
The westlin wind blaws loud and shrill;
The night's baith mirk and rainy, O;
But I'll get my plaid, and out I'll steal.
And o'er the hill to Nannie, O.
My Nannie's charming, sweet, and young;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O:
May ill befa' the flattering tongue
That wad beguile my Nannie, O.
Her face is fair, her heart is true,
As spotless as she's bonnie, O;
The opening gowan wat wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nannie, O.
A country lad is my degree,
And few there be that ken me, O;
But what care I how few they be?
I'm welcome aye to Nannie, O.
My riches a's my penny fee,
And I maun guide it cannie, O;
But warl's gear ne'er troubles me,
My thoughts are a' my Nannie, O.
Our auld gudeman delights to view
His sheep and kye thrive bonnie, O;
But I'm as blythe that hauds his plough,
And has nae care but Nannie, O.
Come weel, come wae, I carena by,
I'll tak' what heaven will send me, O;
Nae ither care in life ha'e I,
But live and love my Nannie, O.