Young Jockie was the blythest lad,In a’ our town or here awa;Fu’ blythe he whistled at the gaud,Fu’ lightly danc’d he in the ha’.
He roos’d my een sae bonie blue,He roos’d my waist sae genty sma’;An’ aye my heart cam to my mou’,When ne’er a body heard or saw.
My Jockie toils upon the plain,Thro’ wind and weet, thro’ frost and snaw:And o’er the lea I leuk fu’ fain,When Jockie’s owsen hameward ca’.
An’ aye the night comes round again,When in his arms he taks me a’;An’ aye he vows he’ll be my ain,As lang’s he has a breath to draw.