| |
| ‘OH, saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing? | |
| Saw ye my true love down by yon lea? | |
| Crossed she the meadow yestreen at the gloaming? | |
| Sought she the burnie whare flowers the haw-tree? | |
| Her hair it is lintwhite, her skin it is milkwhite, | 5 |
| Dark is the blue o’ her saft rolling e’e; | |
| Red red her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses! | |
| Whare could my wee thing ha’e wandered frae me?’ | |
| |
| ‘I saw na your wee thing, I saw na your ain thing, | |
| Nor saw I your true love down by yon lea; | 10 |
| But I met a bonnie thing, late in the gloaming, | |
| Down by the burnie whare flowers the haw-tree. | |
| Her hair it was lintwhite, her skin it was milkwhite; | |
| Dark was the blue o’ her saft rolling e’e; | |
| Red were her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses; | 15 |
| Sweet were the kisses that she gae to me.’ | |
| |
| ‘It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing, | |
| It was na my true love ye met by the tree: | |
| Proud is her leal heart, and modest her nature, | |
| She never lo’ed ony till ance she lo’ed me. | 20 |
| Her name it is Mary, she’s frae Castlecary; | |
| Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee. | |
| Fair as your face is, were’t fifty times fairer, | |
| Young bragger, she ne’er wad gi’e kisses to thee.’ | |
| |
| ‘It was then your Mary; she’s frae Castlecary; | 25 |
| It was then your true love I met by the tree. | |
| Proud as her heart is, and modest her nature, | |
| Sweet were the kisses that she ga’e to me.’ | |
| Sair gloomed his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew, | |
| And wild flashed the fire frae his red-rolling e’e; | 30 |
| ‘Ye’se rue sair this morning your boasts and your scorning, | |
| Defend ye, fause traitor! fu’ loudly ye lee!’ | |
| |
| ‘Awa’ wi’ beguiling!’ cried the youth smiling: | |
| Aff went the bonnet, the lintwhite locks flee; | |
| The belted plaid fa’ing, her white bosom shawing, | 35 |
| Fair stood the loved maid with the dark rolling e’e. | |
| ‘Is it my wee thing? is it my ain thing? | |
| Is it my true love here that I see?’ | |
| ‘Oh Jamie, forgi’e me! your heart’s constant to me. | |
| I’ll never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee.’ | 40 |
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