O Listen to me, love, an' mark what I say---
Thinkna my love's like a fause April day,
Kything in sunshine, an' setting in show'r,
Leaving in ruin the noon-cherish'd flow'r.

No, lassie, no: thou hast seen the lark rise,
Warbling and soaring his way to the skies,
Farther frae a' he loves, warmer his lay,
So will my true heart be---mark what I say.

I ken that you lo'e me, by that tear let fa'
On my han' that's a fondlin' thy jimp waist sae sma'
An' young love a-stealing the rose frae thy cheek,
For fear that in blushes the truth it wad speak.

The night gathers round us, I scarcely can see
The ane that is mair than the warld to me,
But her wee han's soft pressure like kind words did say,
I'm yours, Willie only, yours only, for aye.