I lo'e ne'er a laddie but ane,
He lo'es ne'er a lassie but me,
He promis'd to make me his ain,
And his ain I surely will be.
He coft me a rokely o' blue,
And a pair o' mittens sae green;
The price was a kiss o' my mou',
And I paid him his debt yestreen.
 
My mither's ay making a fraise,
And says I'm o'er young for a wife;
But lang e'er she counted my days,
My father had ta'en her for life.
Sae mither just settle your tongue,
And dinna be flyting sae bauld;
For if we're not married when young,
We'll never be married when auld.
 
"Dear lassie," he cries, wi' a jeer,
"Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say;
"Tho' we've little to brag of, ne'er fear,
"What's gowd to a heart that is wae?
"Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
"Yet see, how he's dwining wi' care;
"Now we, tho' we've naithing but health,
"Are cantie and leal evermair.
 
He ends wi' a kiss and a smile,
Waes me! can I tak' it amiss,
When a lad sae unpractis'd in guile,
Smiles saftly, and ends wi' a kiss!
Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment
Your lovers wi' fause scorn and strife,
Play your pranks -- for I've gi'en my consent,
And this night I'll tak' Jamie for life.