Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes, While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw; But to me it's delightless - my Nanie's awa.

The deil cam fiddlin' thro' the town, And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman; And ilka wife cries, Auld Mahoun, I wish you luck o' the prize, man. The deil's awa the deil's awa, The deil's awa wi' the ...