Robert Burns, 1787
My lady's gown, there's gairs upon't,
And gowden flowers sae rare upon't;
But Jenny's jimps and jirkinet,
My lord thinks meikle mair upon't.
My lord a-hunting he is gone,
2. My lady's white, my lady's red,
3. Out o'er yon muir, out o'er yon moss,|
Whare gor-cocks thro' the heather pass,
There wons auld Colin's bonie lass,
A lily in a wilderness.
4. Sae sweetly move her genty limbs,
5. My lady's dink, my lady's drest,
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