IN simmer when the hay was mawn,
And corn wav'd green in ilka field,
While claver blooms white o'er the lea,
And roses blaw in ilka bield,
Blythe Bessie, in the milkin-shiel,
Says, I'll be wed, come o't what will;
Outspak a dame in wrinkled eild,
O' gude advisement comes nae ill.----

Its ye hae wooers mony ane,
And lassie ye're but young ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale,
A routhie butt, a routhie ben:
There 's Johnie o' the Buskieglen,
Fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre;
Tak this frae me, my bonie hen,
It 's plenty beets the luver's fire.------

For Johnie o' the Buskieglen,
I dinna care a single flie;
He loes sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae loove to spare for me:
But blythe ‘s the blink o' Robie's e'e,
And weel I wat he lo'es me dear;
Ae blink o' him I wad na gie
For Buskieglen and a' his gear.------

O thoughtless lassie, life 's a faught,
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But ay fu' -han't is fechtin best,
A hungry care 's an unco care:
But some will spend, and some will spare,
An' wilfu' folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.------

O gear will buy me rigs o' land,
And gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o' leesome love,
The gowd and siller canna buy:
We may be poor, Robie and I,
Light is the burden Loove lays on;
Content and Loove brings peace and joy,
What mair hae queens upon a throne.------