My steeds outstrip the wind;
"At ae blast o' my bugle horn,
A thousand tend the ca:
Oh, gae wi' me to Liddel Bower—
What ill can thee befa'?
"D ye mind when in that lonely bower
We met at even tide,
I kissed your young an' rosy lips,
An' wooed you for my bride?
"I saw the blush break on your cheek,