Tune—“This is no my house.”
Chorus—This is no my ain lassie,
Fair tho, the lassie be;
Weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her e’re.
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.
This is no my ain, &c.
She’s bonie, blooming, straight, and tall,
And lang has had my heart in thrall;
And aye it charms my very saul,
The kind love that’s in her e’e.
This is no my ain, &c.
A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,
To steal a blink, by a’ unseen;
But gleg as light are lover’s een,
When kind love is in her e’e.
This is no my ain, &c.
It may escape the courtly sparks,
It may escape the learned clerks;
But well the watching lover marks
The kind love that’s in her eye.
This is no my ain, &c.