It’s fair to see the burnie kiss
The lip o’ the flowery lea—
An’ fine it is on green hill-side,
Where hums the bonny bee—
But rarer, fairer, finer far
Is the Ingle-Side for me.
Glens may be gilt wi’ gowans rare,
The birds may fill the tree,
An’ haughs hae a’ the scented ware
That simmer growth can gie—