Or Hopetown's wealth to shine in—
Did warlike laurels crown my brow
Or humbler bays entwining—
I'd lay them a' at Jennie's feet,
Could I but hope to move her
And prouder than a belted knight,
I'd be my Jennie's lover.
But sair I fear some happier swain
Has gained sweet Jennie's favor;
If so, may every bliss be hers,