Whan first amang the dewy flowers, Aside yon siller stream, My lowin' heart was press'd to yours, Nae purer did they seem; Nae purer seem'd the draps o' dew, The flowers on whilk they hung, Than seem'd the heart I felt in you As to that heart I clung.
But I was young an' thochtless then, An' easy to beguile; My mither's warnin's had nae weight 'Bout man's deceitfu' smile. But noo, alas! whan she is dead, I 've shed the sad, saut tear, And hung my heavy, heavy head Aboon my father's bier!
They saw their earthly hope betray'd, They saw their Jeanie fade; They couldna thole the heavy stroke, An' baith are lowly laid! Oh, Jamie! but thy name again Shall ne'er be breathed by me, For, speechless through yon gow'ny glen, I 'll wander till I die.
"Ye needna' be courtin' at me, auld man, Ye needna' be courtin' at me; Ye 're threescore an' three, an' ye 're blin' o' an e'e, Sae ye needna' be courtin' at me, auld man, Ye needna' be courtin' at me.
"Stan' aff, noo, an' just lat me be, auld man, Stan' aff, noo, an' just lat me be; Ye 're auld an' ye 're cauld, an' ye 're blin' an' ye 're bald, An' ye 're nae for a lassie like me, auld man, Ye 're nae for a lassie like me."
"Ha'e patience, an' hear me a wee, sweet lass, Ha'e patience, an' hear me a wee; I 've gowpens o' gowd, an' an aumry weel stow'd, An' a heart that lo'es nane but thee, sweet lass, A heart that lo'es nane but thee.
"I 'll busk you as braw as a queen, sweet lass, I 'll busk you as braw as a queen; I 've guineas to spare, an', hark ye, what 's mair, I 'm only twa score an' fifteen, sweet lass, Only twa score an' fifteen."
"Gae hame to your gowd an' your gear, auld man, Gae hame to your gowd an' your gear; There 's a laddie I ken has a heart like mine ain, An' to me he shall ever be dear, auld man, To me he shall ever be dear.
"Get aff, noo, an' fash me nae mair, auld man, Get aff, noo, an' fash me nae mair; There 's a something in love that your gowd canna move-- I 'll be Johnie's although I gang bare, auld man, I 'll be Johnie's although I gang bare."
The bucket, the bucket, the bucket for me! Awa' wi' your bickers o' barley bree; Though good ye may think it, I 'll never mair drink it-- The bucket, the bucket, the bucket for me! There 's health in the bucket, there 's wealth in the bucket, There 's mair i' the bucket than mony can see; An' aye whan I leuk in 't, I find there 's a beuk in 't That teaches the essence o' wisdom to me.