A cold frosty morning

When innocent pastime our pleasures did crown,

Upon a green meadow or under a tree,

E'er Annie became a fine lady in town,

How lovely, and loving, and bonnie was she!

Rouse up your reason, my beautiful Annie,

Let no new whim ding thy fancy ajee,

O! as thou art bonnie, be faithfu' and canny,

And favour thy Jamie wha dotes upon thee.

O think, my dear charmer! on ilka sweet hour

That flade away fastly between thee and me,

E'er squirrels, or beaus, or fopp'ry, had pow'r

To rival my love, or impose upon thee.

Rouse up thy reason, my beautiful Annie,

And let thy desires be a' center'd in me;

O! as thou art bonnie, be faithfu' and canny,

And love him wha's langing to center in thee.