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Gae owre the muir, gae doun the brae,
Gae busk my bowr’ to mak’ it ready,
For I’m gaun’ there to wed the day
The bonnie lad that wears the plaidie.
Twine weel the bonnie tweel,
Twist weel tha plaidie,
For O! I lo’e the laddie weel
That wears the tartan plaidie.
Content his lowly cot I’ll share,
I ask nae mair to mak’ life cheerie;
Wi’ heart sae leal and love sae true
The langest day can ne’er seem eerie.
Weel sheltered in his Hieland plaid
Frae wordly cares I’ll aye be easy;
Its storms I’ll hear like blasts that blaw
Owre heather bell and mountain daisy.
