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ng

tune—“y nanie, o”

behd yon hills where gar flows,

&039;ang oors an&039; osses any, o,

the try sun the day has clos&039;d,

and i&039;ll awa to nanie, o

the westl d bws loud an&039; shill;

the night&039;s baith irk and ray, o;

but i&039;ll t y pid an&039; out i&039;ll steal,

an&039; owre the hill to nanie, o

y nanie&039;s charg, sweet, an&039; young;

nae artfu&039; wiles to ye, o:

ay ill befa&039; the ftterg tongue

that wad beguile y nanie, o

her face is fair, her heart is true;

as spotless as she&039;s bonie, o:

the op&039;ng gowan, wat wi&039; dew,

nae purer is than nanie, o

a untry d is y degree,

an&039; few there be that ken , o;

but what care i how few they be,

i&039; wele aye to nanie, o

y riches a&039;s y penny-fee,

an&039; i aun guide it cannie, o;

but warl&039;s ar ne&039;er troubles ,

y thoughts are a&039; y nanie, o

our auld guidan delights to view

his sheep an&039; kye thrive bonie, o;

but i&039; as blythe that hands his pleugh,

an&039; has nae care but nanie, o

e weel, e woe, i care na by;

i&039;ll tak what heav&039;n will sen&039; , o:

nae ither care life have i,

but live, an&039; love y nanie, o