she says she loes me best of a'
tune—“oonagh's waterfall.”
sae flaxen were her ringlets,
her eyebrows of a darker hue,
bewitchingly o'er-arching
twa laughing e'en o' lovely blue;
her smiling, sae wyling.
wad make a wretch forget his woe;
what pleasure, what treasure,
unto these rosy lips to grow!
such was my chloris' bonie face,
when first that bonie face i saw;
and aye my chloris' dearest charm—
she says, she lo'es me best of a'.
like harmony her motion,
her pretty ankle is a spy,
betraying fair proportion,
wad make a saint forget the sky:
sae warming, sae charming,