I’ the sleet an’ the plashy rain;
But, mither deir, mak’ ye my bed,
An’ I’ll ne’er gang out again.
An’ oh, put by that maiden snood,
Whar nane may evir see;
For Jamie’s ta’en a richer joe,
An’ left but shame to me.”
An’ she has made her dochter’s bed,
An’ her auld heart it was wae;
For as the lang mirk hours gaed by,