O KEN ye what Meg o the Mill has gotten,
An ken ye what Meg o the Mill has gotten?
She gotten a coof wi a claut o siller,
And broken the heart o the barley Miller.
The Miller was strappin, the Miller was ruddy;
A heart like a lord, and a hue like a lady;
The laird was a widdifu, bleerit knurl;
Shes left the gude fellow, and taen the churl.
The Miller he hecht her a heart leal and loving,
The lair did address her wi matter mair moving,
A fine pacing-horse wi a clear chained bridle,
A whip by her side, and a bonie side-saddle.
O wae on the siller, it is sae prevailin,
And wae on the love that is fixed on a mailen!
A tochers nae word in a true lovers parle,
But gie me my love, and a fig for the warl!
