What though ye hae nor kith nor kin',
An' few to tak' your part, love;
A happy hame ye'll ever fin'
Within my glowing heart, love.
So! while I breathe the breath o' life,
Misfortune ne'er shall steer ye;
My Highland Plaid is warm an' wide--
Creep closer, my wee dearie!
The thunder loud, the burstin' cloud,
May speak o' ghaists an' witches,
An' spunkie lichts may lead puir wichts
Through bogs an' droonin' ditches;
There's no ae imp in a' the host
This nicht will daur come near ye;
My Highland Plaid is warm an' wide--
Creep closer, my wee dearie!
Why do you heave sic heavy sighs,
Why do ye sab sae sair, love?
Altho' beneath my rustic plaid
An earl's star I wear love,
I woo'd ye as a shepherd youth,
And as a queen revere thee;
My Highland plaid is warm an' wide--
Creep closer, my wee deerie!