Young Jockey was the blythest lad

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Young Jockey was the blythest lad In a' our town or here awa; Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud, Fu' lightly danc'd he in the ha'. He roos'd my een sae bonie blue, He roos'd my waist sae genty sma; An ay my heart came to my mou, When ne'er a body heard or saw. My Jockey toils upon the plain Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw; And o'er the lee I leuk fu' fain When Jockey's owsen homeward ca'. An ay the night comes round again When in his arms he taks me a'; An ay he vows he'll be my ain As lang's he has a breath to draw.