O, the lad I love is bonny. He is tall and lithe and sunny. The lassies want to love him Far and wide.
My laddie is so comely That he never will be lonely, And he takes the ladies’ worship In his stride.
But my lad is proud and Scottish, And just a bit stand-offish, And what he’s really wanting Is a bride.
Though his wicked eyes are gleaming, He still thinks it isn’t seeming To rough and tumble with A future bride.
So although it would be pleasure To go romping in the heather, For the moment
I must cast such thoughts aside. I must act a little coldly When my lad starts winking boldly, For I aim to make my future By his side.