The Plaidie.
[Tune, "Old Highland laddie."]
The wind blew hie owre muir and lea,
And dark and stormy grew the weather;
The rain rain'd sair; nae shelter near
But my luve's plaid amang the heather.
O my bonnie Highland lad,
My winsome, weelfar'd Highland laddie;
Wha wad mind the wind and rain,
Sae weel row'd in his tartan plaidie?
Close to his breast he held me fast;
Sae cozie, warm, we lay thegither;
Nae simmer heat was half sae sweet
As my luve's plaid amang the heather '
O my bonnie, &c.
'Mid wind and rain he tauld his tale;
My lightsome heart grew like a feather;
It lap sae quick I cou'dna speak,
But silent sigh'd amang the heather.
O my bonnie, &c.
The storm blew past; we kiss'd in haste;
I hameward ran and tauld my mither;
She gloom'd at first, but soon confest
The bowls row'd right amang the heather.
O my bonnie, &c.
Now Hymen's beam gilds bank and stream,
Whare Will and I fresh flowers will gather
Nae storms I fear, I've got my dear
Kind-hearted lad amang the heather.
O my bonnie Highland lad.
My winsome, weelfar'd Highland laddie
Should storms appear, my Will's aye near
To row me in his tartan plaidie.