I see a form, I see a face,
Ye weel may wi' the fairest place:
It wants, to me, the witching grace,
The kind love that's in her e'e.
She's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall,
And lang has had my heart in thrall;
And aye it charms my very saul, soul
The kind love that's in her e'e.
A thief sae pawkie is my Jean, sly
To steal a blink, by a' unseen; glance