My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin,
I toil’d day and night, but their bread I couldna win;
Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi’ tears in his e’e
Said ‘Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me!’
My heart it said nay; I look’d for Jamie back;
But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack;
His ship it was a wrack—why didna Jamie dee?
Or why do I live to cry, Wae’s me!
My father urged me sair: my mother didna speak;
But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break