I Gaed A Waefu' Gate Yestreen.

Air - "The blue-eyed lass."


I.

    I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,
        A gate, I fear, I'll dearlie rue;
    I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
        Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue.
    'Twas not her golden ringlets bright;
        Her lips, like roses, wat wi' dew,
    Her heaving bosom, lily-white,
        It was her een sae bonnie blue.

II.

    She talk'd, she smil'd, my heart she wyl'd;
        She charm'd my soul, I wist na how:
    And ay the stound, the deadly wound,
        Cam frae her een sae bonnie blue.
    But spare to speak, and spare to speed;
        She'll aiblins listen to my vow:
    Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead
        To her twa een sae bonnie blue.