‘Lass, when your mither is frae hame,
May I but be sae bauld -
As com to your bower window,
And creep in frae the cauld?
As come to your bower window,
And when it’s cauld and wat,
Warm me in they fair bosom –
Sweet lass, may I do that?’

‘Young man, gin ye should be sae kind,
When our gude-wife’s frae hame,
As come to my bower window,
Where I am laid my lane,
To warm thee in my bosom,
Tak’ tent, I’ll tell thee what;
The way to me lies through the Kirk –
Young man, do ye hear that?’