6
Your clouted hose I cannot wear,
Your mended shoes I can't endure,
And for your lordship I am not sure,
So I never shall be your dearie, O.
The deil pick out your twa black een,
I wish your face I ne'er had seen,
For you are a proud and saucy queen,
And never shall be my dearie, O.
I am a noble lord of high renown,
I am great Argyle when I came to town,
But my blue bonnet has fallen down,
And you never shall be my dearie, O.
O pardon, pardon, Argyle, allow,
For what I've done in saying so,
To the highland hills with you I'll go,
I long to be your dearie, O.
There is not a whore in London town
Shall set a foot on Campbell's ground,
For I am related to the crown,
And you never shall be my dearie, O.
I am a noble lord of great renown,
I am great Argyle when I come to town;
While drums do beat, and trumpets sound,
You never shall be my dearie, O.
I wish I had you in Lancashire,
