Yon wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide
That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the Clyde
Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed
And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed

Not Gowrie's rich valley nor Forth's sunny shores
To me hae the charms o' yon wild, mossy moors;
For there, by a lanely, sequesterèd clear stream
Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream

Amang thae wild mountains shall still be my path
Ilk stream foaming down its ain, green. narrow strath;
For there wi' my lassie the daylang I rove
While o'er us unheeded flie the swift hours o' love

She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair;
O' nice education but sma' is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I lo'e the dear lassie because she lo'es me

To Beauty what man but maun yield him a prize
In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs?
And when Wit and Refinement hae polish'd her darts
They dazzle our een, as they flee to our hearts

But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond-sparkling e'e
Has lustre outshining the diamond to me
And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms
O, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms!