There was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk and market to be seen;When a' our fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonnie Bernie, And aye she was wrought her mammie's wark, And aye she sang sea merrilie; The blythest bird upon the bush Had ne'er a lighter heart than she.

But hawks will rob the tender joys,
That bless the little lintwhite's nest;
And frost will blight the fairest flowers,
And love will break the soundest rest.

And now she works her mammie's wark
And aye she sighs wi' care and pain:
Ye wist na what her ail might be,
Or what wad make her weel again.