The old highland laddie
Haydn, Joseph
The Lawland maids gang trig and fine,
But aft they're sour and unco saucy;
Sae proud they never can be kind,
Like my good-humour'd highland lassie.
O my bonny, bonny highland lassie,
My hearty smiling highland lassie;
May never care make thee less fair,
But bloom of youth still bless my lassie.
Than ony lass in borrows-town,
Wha makes their cheeks with patches motie,
I'd tak my Katie but a gown,
Barefooted, in her little coatie.
O my bonny,
etc.
Beneath the brier or brecken bush,
Whene'er I kiss and court my dawtie,
Happy and blythe as ane wad wish,
My flighterin heart gangs pittle-pattie.
O my bonny,
etc.
O'er highest heathery hills I'll sten,
With cockit gun and ratches tenty,
To drive the deer out of their den,
To feast my lass on dishes dainty.
O my bonny,
etc.
There's nane shall dare, by deed or word,
'Gainst her to wag a tongue or finger,
While I can wield my trusty sword,
Or frae my side whisk out a whinger
O my bonny,
etc.
The mountains clad with purple bloom,
And berries ripe, invite my treasure
To range with me, let great fowk gloom,
While wealth and pride confound their pleasure.
O my bonny,
etc.