Her heaving bosom lily-white;
It was her een sae bonnie blue.
She talk'd, she smil'd, my heart she wyl'd, beguiled
She charm'd my soul I wist na how;
And aye the stound, the deadly wound, pang
Came frae her een sae bonnie blue. from
But ‘spare to speak, and spare to speed’—
She'll aiblins listen to my vow: perhaps
Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead death