I’ll be far away frae Middlebie for monie an’ monie a day;
An’ I want ae curl o’ gowden hair to treasure evermore.
I’ve a keepsake braw for you, an’ I’ve something mair to say—
Aye! a hantle mair to tell ye than I’ve ever tell’t afore.
Thus I fleech’t wee Meenie Bell till her heart grew soft and kin’
An’ she met me near the burnie as the simmer gloamin fell;
We pairtit or ’twas day, an’ o’ a’ the nichts I min’
The brichtest in my mem’ry is that nicht wi’ Meenie Bell.
I thocht her heart was troth-fast, but my image faded oot,
An’ a stranger took the place in’t that she said she’d keep for me;