I.
The tither morn, When I forlorn, Aneath an oak sat moaning, I did na trow I'd see my Jo, Beside me, gain the gloaming. But he sae trig, Lap o'er the rig. And dawtingly did cheer me, When I, what reck, Did least expec', To see my lad so near me.
The Complete Works of Robert Burns: Containing his Poems, Songs, and Correspondence.: With a New Life of the Poet, and Notices, Critical and Biographical by Allan Cunningham
The tither morn, When I forlorn, Aneath an oak sat moaning, I did na trow I'd see my Jo, Beside me, gain the gloaming. But he sae trig, Lap o'er the rig. And dawtingly did cheer me, When I, what reck, Did least expec', To see my lad so near me.