I gi'ed my love the white white rose
That's at my feyther's wa',
It is the bonniest flower that grows
Whaur ilka flower is braw;
There's but ae bonnier that I ken
Frae Perth unto the main,
An' that's the flower o' Scotland's men
That's fechtin' for his ain.

Gin I had kept whate'er was mine
As I hae gie'd my best,
My he'rt were licht by day, and syne
The nicht wad bring me rest;
There is nae heavier he'rt to find
Frae Forfar toon to Ayr,
As aye I sit me doon to mind
On him I see nae mair.

Lad, gin ye fa' by Chairlie's side
To rid this land o' shame,
There winna be a prooder bride
Than her ye left at hame,
But I will seek ye whaur ye sleep
Frae lawlands to the peat,
An ilka nicht at mirk I'll creep
To lay me at yer feet.