Young Jamie, pride of a’ the plain,
Sae gallant and sae gay a swain,
Thro’ a’ our lasses he did rove,
And reign’d resistless King of Love.
Butnow, wi’sighs and starting tears,
He strays amangthe woods and breirs;
Orin the glens and rocky caves,
His sad complaining dowieraves:-
“I whasae late did range and rove,
And chang’d with every moon my love,
I little thought the time was near,
Repentance I should buy saedear.
“The slighted maids my torments see,
And laugh at a’the pangs I dree;
While she, my cruel, scornful Fair,
Forbids me e’erto see her mair.”