Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/I hae nae Kith

I hae nae Kith.

I hae nae kith, I hae nae kin,
 Nor ane that's dear to me;
For the bonnie lad that I lo'e best,
 He's far ayont the sea.
He's gane wi' ane that was our ain,
 And we may rue the day
When our king's ae daughter came here
 To play sic foul play.

Oh, gin I were a bonnie bird
 Wi' wings, that I might flee!
Then would I travel o'er the main,
 My ae true-love to see.
Then I wad tell a joyfu' tale
 To ane that's dear to me,
And sit upon a king's window
 And sing my melody.

The adder lies i' the corbie's nest
 Aneath the corbie's wing,
And the blast that reaves the corbie's brood
 Will soon blaw hame our king.
Then blaw ye east, or blaw ye west,
 Oi' blaw ye o'er the faeiri,
Oh, bring the lad that I lo'e best,
 And ane I darena name.