I.

O wha is she that lo'es me, And has my heart a-keeping? O sweet is she that lo'es me, As dews of simmer weeping, In tears the rosebuds steeping! O that's the lassie of my heart, My lassie ever dearer; O that's the queen of womankind, And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie In grace and beauty charming, That e'en thy chosen lassie, Erewhile thy breast sae warming Had ne'er sic powers alarming.

If thou hadst heard her talking, And thy attentions plighted, That ilka body talking, But her by thee is slighted, And thou art all delighted.