But ’mang the folk I like to min’,
I offen see her, skeich an’ bonnie.
An’ whiles I’ve thochte that bed she gi’en,
An’ keep’t, her word to be sweet-heartit,
Like ither sweethearts, she’d ha’e been
Frae mem’ry’s hauld lang, lang depairtit.
For weel I wat, fair favours won
Ha’e frae men’s minds aye suener slippit
Nor ochte we’ve set oor hearts upon,
An’ triet to grip—but fail’t to grip it.