Our bonny Scotch lads, in their green tartan plaids,|
Their blue-belted bonnets, and feathers sae braw,
Rank'd tip on the green were fair to be seen,
But my bonnie young laddie was fairest of a'.
His cheeks were as red as the sweet heather-bell.
Or the red western cloud looking down on the snaw,
His lang yellow hair o'er his braid shoulders fell,
And the een o' the lasses were fix'd on him a'.
2. My heart sunk wi' was on the wearifu' day,
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