My Nanie O
Red rows the Nith ’tween bank and brae,
Mirk is the night and rainie O,
Though heaven and earth should mix in storm,
I’ll gang and see my Nanie O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O;
My kind and winsome Nanie O,
She holds my heart in love’s dear bands,
And nane can do ’t but Nanie O.
In preaching-time sae meek she stands,
Sae saintly and sae bonny O,
I cannot get ae glimpse of grace,
For thieving looks at Nanie O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O;
The world’s in love with Nanie O;
That heart is hardly worth the wear
That wadna love my Nanie O.
My breast can scarce contain my heart,
When dancing she moves finely O;
I guess what heaven is by her eyes,
They sparkle sae divinely O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O,
The flower o’ Nithsdale’s Nanie O;
Love looks frae ’neath her lang brown hair,
And says, I dwell with Nanie O.
Tell not, thou star at grey daylight,
O’er Tinwald-tap sae bonny O,
My footsteps ‘mang the morning dew
When coming frae my Nanie O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O;
Nane ken o’ me and Nanie O;
The stars and moon may tell ’t aboon,
They winna wrang my Nanie O!