Robert Burns

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  MY lady’s gown there’s gairs upon’t,
  And gowden flowers sae rare upon’t;
  But Jenny’s jimps and jirkinet,
  My lord thinks muckle mair upon’t.

My lord a-hunting he is gane,
But hounds or hawks wi’ him are nane,
By Colin’s cottage lies his game,
If Colin’s Jenny be at hame.

My lady’s white, my lady’s red,
And kith and kin o’ Cassillis’ blude,
But her ten-pund lands o’ tocher guid
Were a’ the charms his lordship lo’ed.

Out o’er yon muir, out o’er yon moss,
Where gor-cocks thro’ the heather pass,
There wons auld Colin’s bonnie lass,
A lily in a wilderness.

Sae sweetly move her genty limbs,
Like music notes o’ lover’s hymns:
The diamond dew in her een sae blue,
Where laughing love sae wanton swims.

My lady’s dink, my lady’s drest,
The flower and fancy o’ the west;
But the lassie that a man lo’es best,
O that’s the lass to make him blest.