LASSIE, lend me your braw hemp heckle,
And I’ll lend you my thripling kame;
For fainness, deary, I’ll gar ye keckle,
If ye’ll go dance the Bob of Dumblane.
Haste ye, gang to the ground of ye’r trunkies,
Busk ye braw and dinna think shame;
Consider in time, if leading of monkies
Be better than dancing the Bob of Dumblane.
Be frank my lassie, left I grow fickle,
And take my word and offer again,
Syne ye may chance to repent it mickle,
Ye did nae accept of the Bob of Dumblane.
The dinner, the piper and priest shall be ready,
And I’m grown dowy with lying my lane,
Away then leave baith minny and dady,
And try with me the Bob of Dumblane.