They’ve prest my dear Johnny,
Sae sprightly and bonny,—
Alack! I shall ne’er mair d’ weel, O:
The kidnapping squad,
Laid hold of my lad,
As he was unmooring the keel, O.
O my sweet laddie,
My canny keel laddie,
Sae handsome, sae canty, and free, O;
Had he staid on the Tyne,