Jim Crow/Of a' the airts the wind can blaw

OF A’ THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW.

Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly loe the west,
For there the bonny lassie lives,
The lassie I loe best.

Though wild-woods grow, and rivers row
Wi’ mony a hill between,
Baith day and night my fancy’s flight
Is ever wi’ my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flower,
Sae lovely, sweet and fair;
I hear her voice in ilka bird,
Wi’ music charm the air.

There’s no a bonnie flower that springs,
By fountain, shaw, or green,
Nor yet a bonny bird that sings,
But minds me o’ my Jean.