And over the moor at Tweedmouth brae,
Sore draggit was her woman’s weed;
And lightin’ down by Haggerston Shaws,
Did Cochrane’s Bonny Grizzy!
A cloak she drew from her saddlebag,
With trunks and a doublet fair;
She cut off with a folding knife,
Her long and raven hair;
And she dressed herself in laddie’s clothes,
Did Cochrane’s Bonny Grizzy!