The Maiden's Lament.

When wint'ry win's are blawin' cauld,
Wi' lang nichts sae dreary O,
Ilk blast does chill my very saul,
An' mak's me wae and eerie O.
  Och hey! my laddie O,
  Och hey! my laddie O,
  Should ony come, how fainly I
  Wad row him in my plaidie O.

The win' roars owre the hie lum tap,—
The nicht is cauld and dreary O—
The cat lies purrin' in my lap,
But oh! it canna cheer me O.
  Och hey! &c.

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There's no a lad comes 'bout the house
At een tae mak' me cheery O,
Sae here I sit alane fu' douse,
Aye gauntin' lang an' weary O.
  Och hey! &c.

'Twas ance wi' lads I was amused,
When offers I had mony O,—
But sers them a' I aye refused,
An waited for my Johnny O.
  Och hey! &c.

My fields were then baith braid and lang,
My corn-riggs were bonny O,
When happily I've sung ilk sang,
About my lovely Johnny O.
  Och hey! &c.

But now my Johnny's dead an gane,
So are my Mam an' Daddy O;
An' here, puir thing! I'm left alane,—
But still I hae my plaidie O.
  Come! then some laddie O,
  Come! then some laddie O,
page 89   I canna be as I hae been,
  Ye're welcome to my plaidie O.