(7)
I never hae try'd yet to mak love to ony,
never lov'd ony till ance I lov'd you;
Now we're alane in the green wood sae bonny,
now tell me, dear lassie, the way for to woo.
What care I for your wand'ring, laddie,
or yet for your sailing the sea?
It was nae for nought ye left Peggy,
my tocher it brought you to me.
An' say hae ye gowd for to busk me ay gandy,
wi' ribbons, an' pearls an breast-knot anew,
A house that is canty wi' plenishin' plenty,
without them ye never need come for to woo.
I hae nae gowd to busk ye ay gaudy,
nor yet buy you ribbon enow;
I brag nae o' house, nor o' plenty,
but I hae a heart that is true:
I came na for tocher, I ne'er heard o' ony,
never lo'ed Peggy, nor e'er brak my ⟨vow⟩;
I've wander'd, poor fool, for a face sause a bonny,
I little thought this was the way for to woo.
Hae na ye roos'd my red cheeks like the morning,
an' roos'd up my cherry-red mou?
Ye've come o'er the sea, muir, and mountain,
what mair Johnny need ye to woo?
An far hae ye wander'd, I ken, my dear laddie,
now ye hae faund me, ye've nae cause to rue;
Wi health we'll hae plenty, I'll never gang gaudy,
I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true.
