Robert Burns

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YOUNG Jamie, pride of a’ the plain,
Sae gallant and sae gay a swain;
Thro a’ our lasses he did rove,
And reign’d resistless King of Love:
But now wi’ sighs and starting tears,
He strays amang the woods and briers;
Or in the glens and rocky caves
His sad complaining dowie raves:

I wha sae late did range and rove.
And changed with every moon my love,
I little thought the time was near,
Repentance I should buy sae dear;
The slighted maids my torment see,
And laugh at a’ the pangs I dree;
While she, my cruel, scornfu’ fair,
Forbids me e’er to see her mair!