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| Chorus—O wat ye wha’s in yon town, | |
| Ye see the e’enin sun upon, | |
| The dearest maid’s in yon town, | |
| That e’ening sun is shining on. | |
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| NOW haply down yon gay green shaw, | 5 |
| She wanders by yon spreading tree; | |
| How blest ye flowers that round her blaw, | |
| Ye catch the glances o’ her e’e! | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| How blest ye birds that round her sing, | 10 |
| And welcome in the blooming year; | |
| And doubly welcome be the Spring, | |
| The season to my Jeanie dear. | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| The sun blinks blythe on yon town, | 15 |
| Among the broomy braes sae green; | |
| But my delight in yon town, | |
| And dearest pleasure, is my Jean. | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| Without my Fair, not a’ the charms | 20 |
| O’ Paradise could yield me joy; | |
| But give me Jeanie in my arms | |
| And welcome Lapland’s dreary sky! | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| My cave wad be a lover’s bower, | 25 |
| Tho’ raging Winter rent the air; | |
| And she a lovely little flower, | |
| That I wad tent and shelter there. | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| O sweet is she in yon town, | 30 |
| The sinkin, sun’s gane down upon; | |
| A fairer than’s in yon town, | |
| His setting beam ne’er shone upon. | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| If angry Fate is sworn my foe, | 35 |
| And suff’ring I am doom’d to bear; | |
| I careless quit aught else below, | |
| But spare, O spare me Jeanie dear. | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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| For while life’s dearest blood is warm, | 40 |
| Ae thought frae her shall ne’er depart, | |
| And she, as fairest is her form, | |
| She has the truest, kindest heart. | |
| O wat ye wha’s, &c. | |
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