There was a troop o’ gentlemen
   Came riding merrilie by,
  And one of them has rode out o’ the way,
   To the bought to the bonny may.

  “Weel may ye save an’ see, bonny lass,
   “An’ weel may ye save an’ see.” 
  “An’ sae wi’ you, ye weel-bred knight,”
   “And what’s your will wi’ me?”

  “The night is misty and mirk, fair may,
   “And I have ridden astray,
  “And will ye be so kind, fair may,
   “As come out and point my way?”

  “Ride out, ride out, ye ramp rider! 
   “Your steed’s baith stout and strang;
  “For out of the bought I dare na come,
   “For fear ’at ye do me wrang.”

  “O winna ye pity me, bonny lass,
   “O winna ye pity me? 
  “An’ winna ye pity my poor steed,
   “Stands trembling at yon tree?”

  “I wadna pity your poor steed,
   “Tho’ it were tied to a thorn;
  “For if ye wad gain my love the night,
   “Ye wad slight me ere the morn.

  “For I ken you by your weel-busked hat,
   “And your merrie twinkling e’e,
  “That ye’re the laird o’ the Oakland hills,
   “An’ ye may weel seem for to be.”

  “But I am not the laird o’ the Oakland hills,
   “Ye’re far mista’en o’ me;
  “But I’m are o’ the men about his house,
   “An’ right aft in his companie.”

  He’s ta’en her by the middle jimp,
   And by the grass-green sleeve;
  He’s lifted her over the fauld dyke,
   And speer’d at her sma’ leave.

  O he’s ta’en out a purse o’ gowd,
   And streek’d her yellow hair,
  “Now, take ye that, my bonnie may,
   “Of me till you hear mair.”

  O he’s leapt on his berry-brown steed,
   An’ soon he’s o’erta’en his men;
  And ane and a’ cried out to him,
   “O master, ye’ve tarry’d lang!”

  “O I hae been east, and I hae been west,
   “An’ I hae been far o’er the know,
  “But the bonniest lass that ever I saw
   “Is i’the bought milking the ewes.”

  She set the cog[A] upon her head,
   An’ she’s gane singing hame—­
  “O where hae ye been, my ae daughter? 
   “Ye hae na been your lane.”

  “O nae body was wi’ me, father,
   “O nae body has been wi’ me;
  “The night is misty and mirk, father,
   “Ye may gang to the door and see.

  “But wae be to your ewe-herd, father,
   “And an ill deed may he die;
  “He bug the bought at the back o’ the know,
   “And a tod[B] has frighted me.

  “There came a tod to the bought-door,
   “The like I never saw;
  “And ere he had tane the lamb he did,
   “I had lourd he had ta’en them a’.”

  O whan fifteen weeks was come and gane,
   Fifteen weeks and three. 
  That lassie began to look thin and pale,
   An’ to long for his merry twinkling e’e.

  It fell on a day, on a het simmer day,
   She was ca’ing out her father’s kye,
  By came a troop o’ gentlemen,
   A’ merrilie riding bye.