Of a'€š the airts the wind can blaw I dearly like the west For there the bonnie La**ie lives The La**ie I love best There's wild-woods grow, and rivers row And mony a hill between But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi'€š my Jean! I see her in the Dewy flowers
I see her sweet and fair I hear her in the tuneful‚ birds I hear her charm the air There's not a bonnie flower, that springs By a fountain, shaw, or green There's not a bonnie bird that sings But minds me oh my Jean!