6
The brawest beau in burrow town,
In a' his airs wi' art made ready.
Compared wi' him, he's but a clown
He's finer far in s tartan plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.
O er benty hill wi' him I ll run,
And leave my Lawland kin and daddie,
Frae winter's cald and simmers sun,
He'll screen me wi' his Highland plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.
A painted room, and silken bed,
May please a Lawland laird and lady.
But I can kiss and be as glad,
Behind a bush, in s Highland plaidie.
O my bonnie &c.
Few compliments between us pass,
I ca' him my dear Highland laddie,
And he ca's me his Lawland lass,
Syne rows me in beneath his plaidie.
O my bonnie, &c.
Nae greater joy I'll e’er pretend,
Than that his love prove true and s'eady,
Like mine to him, which ne er shall end,
While heaven preserves my Highland laddie.
O my bonnie, &c.
