There was a lad was born in Kyle,
But what na day o' what na style,
I doubt it 's hardly worth the while
  To be sae nice wi' Robin.
       Robin was a rovin' Boy,
         Rantin' rovin', rantin' rovin';
       Robin was a rovin' Boy,
         Rantin' rovin' Robin. 

Our monarch's hindmost year but ane
Was five-and-twenty days begun,
'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' Win'
  Blew hansel in on Robin.

The Gossip keekit in his loof,
Quo' scho wha lives will see the proof,
This waly boy will be nae coof,
  I think we'll ca' him Robin.

He'll hae misfortunes great and sma',
But ay a heart aboon them a';
He'll be a credit till us a',
  We'll a' be proud o' Robin.

But sure as three times three mak nine,
I see by ilka score and line,
This chap will dearly like our kin',
  So leeze me on thee, Robin.

Guid faith quo' scho I doubt you Stir,
Ye'll gar the lasses lie aspar;
But twenty fauts ye may hae waur -
  So blessins on thee, Robin.