The Plaid Amang The Hether Poem by Hector Macneill

The wind blew hie owre muir and lea,
And dark and stormy grew the weather;
The rain rain'd sair; nae shelter near
But my luve's plaid amang the hether:
O my bonie highland lad!
My winsome, weelfar'd, highland laddie
Wha wad mind the wind and weit
Sae weel row'd in his tartan pladdie?

Close to his breast he held me fast ;
Sae cozy, warm, we lay thegither!
Nae simmer heat was half sae sweet
As my luve's plaid amang the hether!
O my bonie highland lad!
My winsome, weelfar'd, highland laddie
Wha wad mind the wind and weit
Sae weel row'd in his tartan pladdie?

Mid wind and rain he tald his tale;
My lightsome heart grew like a feather;
It lap sae quick I coudna speak,
But silent sigh'd amang the hether!
O my bonie highland lad!
My winsome, weelfar'd, highland laddie
Wha wad mind the wind and weit
Sae weel row'd in his tartan pladdie?

The storm blew past; we kiss'd in haste;
I hameward ran and tald my mither;
She gloom'd at first, but soon confess'd
The bowls row'd right amang the hether!
O my bonie highland lad!
My winsome, weelfar'd, highland laddie
Wha wad mind the wind and weit
Sae weel row'd in his tartan pladdie?

Now Hymen's beam gilds bank and stream
Whar Will and I fresh flowers will gather;
Nae storms I fear, I've got my dear
Kind hearted lad amang the hether!
O my bonie highland lad
My winsome, weelfar'd, highland laddie!
Should storms appear, my Will's ay near
To row me in his tartan pladdie.