To the Tune of, I’ll gar ye be fain to follow me.
A Dieu for a while my native green plains,
My nearest relations and neighbouring swains,
Dear Nelly frae these I’d start easily free,
Were minutes not ages, while absent frae thee.
Then tell me the reason thou does not obey
The pleadings of love, but thus hurrys away;
Alake, thou deceiver, o’er plainly I see,
A lover sae roving will never mind me.
The reason unhappy, is owing to fate
That gave me a being without an estate,
Which lays a necessity now upon me,
To purchase a fortune for pleasure to thee.
Small fortune may serve where love has the sway,
Then Johny be counsel’d na langer to stray,
For while thou proves constant in kindness to me,
Contented I’ll ay find treasure in thee.
O cease, my dear charmer, else soon I’ll betray
A weakness unmanly, and quickly give way
To Fondness which may prove a ruin to thee,
A pain to us baith, and dishonour to me.
Bear witness, ye streams, and witness, ye flowers,
Bear witness, ye watchful invisible powers,
If ever my heart be unfaithful to thee,
May naithing propitious e’er smile upon me.