Oh, as I rode out one morning fair
Over lofty hill, o 'er land and mountain
It was there I met with the fine young girl
While I with others was hunting
No shoes nor stockings did she wear
Neither had she hat nor had she feather
But her golden curls I and ringlets rev,
played round her shoulders.
Romulan, among the heathen?
She said, my father's away from home,
And I'm herding off his ewes together.
Lassie, if you'll be mine,
And if you lie on a bed of feldarms,
In silks and satins it's you will shine,
And you'll be my queen among the ever.
She said, kind sir, your offer is good,
But I'm afraid it's meant for laughter,
Or I know you are some rich squire's son,
Ah, but had he been some shepherd lad,
Or heard a news among the heathen,
It's with all my heart I would
But the bonniest lassie in
She was harding off her use together
So we both sat down upon the plain
We sat a while and we talked together
And we left the ewes for to stray their lane
Till I won my queen among the heather.
