The Hallow fair (3)/Sweet Kitty o' the Clyde

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SWEET KITTY O' THE CLYDE.

A Boat danc'd on Clyde's bonny stream,
⁠When winds were rudely blowing,
There sat what might the goddess seem,
⁠Of the waves beneath her flowing;
But no I a mortal fair was she,
⁠Surpassing a' beside;
And youths a' speer'd her choice to be--
⁠Sweet Kitty o' the Clyde.

I saw the boatman spread a sail,
⁠And while his daftness noting,
The boat was upset by the gale,
⁠I saw sweet Kitty floating:
I plung'd into the silver wave,
⁠Wi' Cupid for my guide,
And thought my heart weel lost to save,
⁠Sweet Kitty o' the Clyde.

But Kitty is a high-born fair;
⁠A lowly name I carry,
Nor can wi' lordly Thanes compare,
⁠Who woo'd the maid to marry:
But she na scornfu' looks on me,
⁠And joy may yet betide,
For hope dares flatter mine may be,
⁠Sweet Kitty o' the Clyde.