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Robin is my only jo.
Robin is my only jo,
For Robin has the a t to woo,
So to his suit I mean to bow,
Because I ken he lo’es me
Happy, happy, was the shower,
That led me to his birken bower.
Whare first of love I fand the power,
And kend that Robin loed me.
They speak of napkins, speak of rings
Speak of gloves, and kissing strings
And name a thousand bonny things
And ca’ them signs he lo’es me.
But I’d prefer a smack o’ Rob,
Sporting on the velvet fog,
To gifts as lang's a plaiden wob,
Because I ken he lo’es ine.
He’s tall and sonsy, flank and free,
Lo’ed by a’, and dear to me,
Wi’ him I'd live, wi’ him I'd die,
Because I ken he lo’es me.
