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Rh And merrily turn’d up the grass, Bonny Jockie, blythe and free, Won her heart right merrily, Yet still she blush’d, and frowning cried Na, na, it winna do, I canna, canna, winna, winna, manna buckle to.

But when he vow’d he wad mak her his bride, Tho’ his docks and herds were but few, She gied him her hand & a kiss beside, And vow’d she’d for ever be true. Bonny Jockie, blythe and free Won her heard right merrily; At kirk she nae and frowling cried, Na, na, it winna do; I canna, canna ,winna, winna,manna buckle to.

’Twas in that season of the year, When all things gay and sweet appear, That Colin, with the morning ray, Arose and sang his rural lay.