Sae my true love did lightly me.
O, waly, waly, but love be bony,
A little time, while it is new;
But when it's auld it waxeth cauld,
And fades away like morning dew.
O, wherefore should I brush my head?
O, wherefore should I kaim my hair,
For my true love has me forsook,
And says he 'll never love me mair.
Now, Arthur's seat shall be my bed,