The Jacobite Lass Poem by Violet Jacob

MY love stuid at the loanin side
An held me by the hand,
The bonniest lad that e'er did bide
In a' this waefu land-
There's but ae bonnier to be seen
Frae Pentland to the sea,
An for his sake but yestreen
I sent my love frae me.
I gied my love the white white rose
That's at my feyther's waa,
It is the bonniest flouer that growes
Whaur ilka flouer is braw;
There's but ae bonnier that I ken
Frae Perth unto the main,
An that's the flouer o Scotland's men
That's fechtin for his ain.
Gin I haed kept whate'er was mine
As I hae gied my best,
My hert were licht by day, an syne
The nicht wad bring me rest;
There is nae heavier hert to finnd
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.