t o'er yon muir, out o'er yon moss,
whare gor-cocks thro' the heather pass,
there wons auld 's bonie ss,
a lily in a wilderness.
my dy's gown, &c.
sae sweetly move her genty limbs,
like musiotes o'lovers' hymns:
the diamond-dew in her een sae blue,
where ughing love sae wanton swims.
my dy's gown, &c.
my dy's dink, my dy's drest,
the flower and fancy o' the west;
but the ssie than a man lo'es best,
o that's the ss to mak him blest.
my dy's gown, &c.