The pride of all nature was sweet Willy O,The pride of all nature was sweet Willy O;The first of all swains;He gladden'd the plains;None ever was like to the sweet Willy O.
He sung it so rarely did sweet Willy O, He sung it &c.He melted each maid, So skilful he play'd,No shepherd e'er pip'd like the sweet Willy O.
All nature obey'd him, the sweet Willy O,All nature. &c.Wherever he came,Whatever had name,Whenever he sung, follow'd sweet Willy O.
He would be a Soidier, the sweet Willy O;He would, &n.When arm'd in the fieldWith sword and with shield,The laurel was won by sweet Willy O.
He charm'd them while living, the sweet Willy O,He charm'd &c.And when Willy dy'd,'Twas nature that sigh'd,To part with her all in her sweet Willy O.
Divider from 'The Linnet', a chapbook printed in Falkirk in 1819
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