342 I LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE
I LO'ED ne'er a laddie but ane,
He lo'es na a lassie but me;
He's willing to mak' me his ain,
And his ain I am willing to be.
He coft〖Bought.〗 me a rokelay〖A short cloak.〗 o' blue,
And a pair o' mittens o' green;
He vowed that he'd ever be true,
And I plighted my troth yestreen.
Let ithers brag weel o' their gear,〖Possessions.〗
Their land and their lordly degree;
I carena for aught but my dear,
For he's ilka thing lordly to me.
His words are sae sugared, sae sweet,
His sense drives ilk〖Each.〗 fear far awa';
I listen, puir fool, and I greet,
Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa'!
‘Dear lassie,’ he cries wi' a jeer,
‘Ne'er heed what the auld anes will say:
Though we've little to brag o', ne'er fear,
What's gowd to a heart that is wae?
Our laird has baith honours and wealth,
Yet see how he's dwining〖Pining.〗 wi' care;
Now we, though we've naething but health,
Are cantie〖Cheerful.〗 and leal〖Loyal.〗 evermair.
‘O Menie, the heart that is true
Has something mair costly than gear;
Ilk e'en it has naething to rue,
Ilk morn it has naething to fear.
Ye warldlings, gae hoard up your store,
And tremble for fear aught ye tyne;〖Loss.〗
Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door,
While here in my arms I lock mine!’
He ends wi' a kiss and a smile—
Wae's me, can I tak' it amiss?
My laddie's unpractised in guile,
He's free aye to daut〖Pet.〗 and to kiss.
Ye lasses wha' lo'e to torment
Your wooers wi' fause scorn and strife,
Play your pranks; I ha'e gi'en my consent,
And this night I am Jamie's for life.