YOUNG JAMIE, pride of a the plain,
Sae gallant and sae gay a swain,
Thro a our lasses he did rove,
And reignd resistless King of Love.
But now, wi sighs and starting tears,
He strays amang the woods and breirs;
Or in the glens and rocky caves,
His sad complaining dowie raves:
I wha sae late did range and rove,
And changd with every moon my love,
I little thought the time was near,
Repentance I should buy sae dear.
The slighted maids my torments see,
And laugh at a the pangs I dree;
While she, my cruel, scornful Fair,
Forbids me eer to see her mair.
