Bonny Kilmeny gaed[6] up the glen;
But it wasna to meet Duneira’s men,
Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see,
For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.
It was only to hear the yorlin[7] sing,
And pull the blue cress-flower round the spring;
To pull the hip and the hindberrye[8],
And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree;
For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.
But lang may her minnie[9] look o’er the wa’,