The Scotch Shepherd.
Behind yon hill where Stinchar flows,
many moons and masses many O;
The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
and I'll awa to Nannie O:
The whistling wind blows loud and shrill,
the nights 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 artful 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 at she's bonny O;
The opening gowan wet wi' dew,
nae purer is than Nannie O.
A country lad is my degree,
an few they be that ken me O;
But what care I how few they be,
I'm welcome to my Nannie O;
My riches a's my penny fee,
and I maun guide it cannie O;
But wardly gear ne'er troubles me,
My thoughts are a' my Nannie O.
Our auld gude man delights to view
his sheep and kyne thrive bonny O,
But I'm as blythe that hauds his plough,
and hae nae care but Nannie O,
Come weel come woe, I care na by,
I'll tak what heaven will send me O;
Nae either care in life hae I,
but live and love my Nannie O.