I lo’e ye for those cheeks, my lassie,
O’ sweetest tinge o’ rosy hue;
An’ O, I lo’e ye, dearest lassie,
For those twa cannie e’en o’ blue.
I lo’e ye for that form, my lassie,
Like to the deer’s, sae fit’ o’ grace;
I lo’e ye for that smile, my lassie,
That plays across thy charming face.
But what I lo’e still more, my lassie,
Is that which is worth mair to gain: