16
Whilk shall ever ne my pride;
O row thee in my Highland plaid.
Bonny lad, ye’ve been sae leal,
My heart would break at our farewell;
Lang your love has made me fain.
Take me, take me for your ain,
’Cross the Firth, away then glide,
Young Donald and his Lowland bride.
Oh! Nanny Wil’t Thou gang Wi’ Me?
Oh! Nanny, wilt thou gang wi’ me,
nor sigh to leave the flaunting town;
Can silent glens have charms for thee,
the lowly cot, and russet gown?
No longer drest in silk and sheen,
no longer deck’d with jewels rare.
Say, canst thou quit the busy scene,
where thou art fairest of the fair;
Oh! Nanny, when thou’rt far away,
wilt thou not cast a wish behind?
Say, canst thou face the parching ray,
nor shrink before a wintry wind?
Oh! can that soft, that gentle mien,
extremes of hardships learn to bear,
Nor sad regret each courtly scene,
where thou art fairest of the fair?
Oh! Nanny, canst thou love so true,
through perils keen with me to go,
Or when thy swain mishap shall rue,
to share with him the pang of woe?
