Oh! sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say o' a', I gied him ae kiss and bade him gang awa'. I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee, For tho' my heart is broken, I'm young, woe's me! I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin, I darena think on Jamie, for that would be a sin; But I'll do my best a gude wife to be, For oh! Robin Gray he is kind to me. SECOND PART. The winter was come, 'twas simmer nae mair, And, trembling, the leaves were fleeing thro' th' air; "O winter," says Jeanie, "we kindly agree, For the sun he looks wae when he shines upon me." Nae longer she mourned, her tears were a' spent; Despair it was come, and she thought it content-- She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale, And she bent like a lily broke down by the gale. Her father and mother observed her decay; "What ails ye, my bairn?" they ofttimes would say; "Ye turn round your wheel, but you come little speed, For feeble's your hand and silly's your thread." She smiled when she heard them, to banish their fear, But wae looks the smile that is seen through a tear, And bitter's the tear that is forced by a love Which honour and virtue can never approve. Her father was vexed and her mother was wae, But pensive and silent was auld Robin Gray; He wandered his lane, and his face it grew lean, Like the side of a brae where the torrent had been. Nae questions he spiered her concerning her health, He looked at her often, but aye 'twas by stealth; When his heart it grew grit, and often he feigned To gang to the door to see if it rained. He took to his bed--nae physic he sought, But ordered his friends all around to be brought; While Jeanie supported his head in its place, Her tears trickled down, and they fell on his face. "Oh, greet nae mair, Jeanie," said he wi' a groan, "I'm no worth your sorrow--the truth maun be known; Send round for your neighbours, my hour it draws near, And I've that to tell that it's fit a' should hear. "I've wronged her," he said, "but I kent it owre late; I've wronged her, and sorrow is speeding my date; But a' for the best, since my death will soon free A faithfu' young heart that was ill matched wi' me. "I lo'ed and I courted her mony a day, The auld folks were for me, but still she said nay; I kentna o' Jamie, nor yet of her vow, In mercy forgive me--'twas I stole the cow. "I cared not for Crummie, I thought but o' thee-- I thought it was Crummie stood 'twixt you and me; While she fed your parents, oh, did you not say You never would marry wi' auld Robin Gray?