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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,