'
O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wad gladly die?
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
Whase only faut is loving thee? [fault]
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pity to me shown!
A thought ungentle canna be
The thought o' Mary Morison.
MY NANNIE O
Behind yon hills where Lugar flows,
'Mang moors an' mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
And I'll awa' to Nannie, O.
The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill, [western, keen]
The night's baith mirk and rainy, O; [both dark]
But I'll get my plaid, an' out I'll steal,
An' owre the hill to Nannie, O. [over]
My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young:
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O:
May ill befa' the flattering tongue
That wad beguile my Nannie, O.
Her face is fair, her heart is true,
As spotless as she's bonnie, O:
The opening gowan, wat wi' dew, [daisy, wet]
Nae purer is than Nannie, O.
A country lad is my degree,
An' few there be that ken me, O;
But what care I how few they be,
I'm welcome aye to Nannie, O.
My riches a's my penny-fee, [wages]
An' I maun guide it cannie, O; [carefully]
But warl's gear ne'er troubles me, [lucre]
My thoughts are a'--my Nannie, O.
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