'Twas na her bonie blue e'e was my ruin;
Fair tho' she be, that was ne'er my undoing:
'Twas the dear smile when naebody did mind us,
'Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o'kindness.
Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me,
Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me;
But tho'fell Fortune should fate us to sever,
Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever.
Chloris I'm thine wi'a passion sincerest,
And thou hast plighted me love o'the dearest!
And thou'rt the angel that never can alter,
Sooner the sun in his motion would falter.
