Page:Rob Roy Macgregor.pdf/5

 I'd tak young Donald without trews,

With bonnet blue and belted plaidie.

O my bonnie, &c.

The brawest beau in burrows town,

In a' his airs with art made ready,

Compared to him, he's but a clown,

He's finer far in's tartan plaidie.

O my bonnie, &c.

O'er benty hills with him I'll run,

And leave my Lawland kin and daddie;

Frae winter's cauld, and simmer's sun,

He'll screen me with his Highland plaidie.

O my bonnie, &c.

A painted room, and silken bed,

May please a Lawland laird and lady;

But I can kiss, and be as glad,

Behind a bush, in's Highland plaidie.

O my bonnie, &c.

Few compliments between us pass,

I ca' him my dear Highland laddie;

And he ca's me his Lawland lass,

Syne rows me in beneath his plaidie.

O my bonnie, &c.

Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend,

Than that his love proves true and steady