By moon light on the green

By moon light on the green Where lads and lasses stray, How sweet the blossom'd bean. How sweet the new-made hay.

But not to me sa sweet, The blossoms on the thorn, As when my lad I meet More fresh than May-day morn.

Give me the the lad sa blithe and gay, Give me the Tartan Pladdie, For spite of all the wise can say, I'll wed my Highland laddie. My bonny Highland laddie.

His skin is white as snow, He een are bonny blue, Like rosebud sweet his mow, When wet with morning dew.

Young Willy is rich and great, And fain wou'd ca' me his; But what is pride or state, Without love's smiling bliss? Give me the lad, &c. &c.

When first he talk'd of love, He look'd sa blithe and gay, His flame I did approve, And could na say him nay.

Then to the kirk I'll haste, There prove my love and truth, Reward a love sa chaste, And wed the constant youth. Give me the lad, &c. &c.