3
Although the lad the plaid who wore,
is now upon a distant shore ;
And cruel seas between us roar,
I'll mind the plaid that sheltered me,
The lad that gied me‘t likes me weel,
altho‘ his name I daurna tell
He likes me just as weel's himsel‘
and o the plaid is dear to me,
O may the plidie yet be worn,
by Caledonions yet unborn.
I ll fa‘ the wretch that e'er doth scorn,
the pladie that's sae dear to me.
From surly blasts it covers me ;
he ll me himsel protecton give ;
I'll loe him till the day I die,
and O his plaid is dear to me.
I hope he'll no forget me now
each often pledged aith and vow ;
I hope he'll yet return to woo
me in the plaid sae dear to me.
I hope the time will come my lad
when we will to the kirk and wed
Weel happit in the tartan plaid
the plaidie thats sae dear to me.
