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'Twas na her bonie blue e'e was my ruin; Fair tho' she be, that was ne'er my undoing: 'Twas the dear smile when naebody did mind us, 'Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o' kindness. Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me, Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me; But tho' fell Fortune should fate us to sever, Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever. Chloris I'm thine wi' a passion sincerest, And thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest! And thou'rt the angel that never can alter, Sooner the sun in his motion would falter.
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