Traditional
Version as sung by John Watt Stewart
It wis up yon dark an lonely glen
That's shade bi mony's a lofty mountain
Far frae the busy haunts o men
Twis the first day I gaed oot a huntin.
A happy day it proved tae be
That day she stole my rovin fancy
She wis herdin her yowes on yon heathery knowes
It wis there I spied my lovely Nancy
Oh fair wis her hair, an green wis her goun
Her body it wis lang an slender
An I wadna gie ye a look o her weel-faured face
For aa yer poodered peintit leddies.
Sez I my lass will ye gyang wi me
An sleep upon a bed o feathers
For the silks an satins'll makk ye shine
Gin ye gyang wi me oot ower the heather
Oh thank ye sir, your offer's fair
But I'm afraid it's meant in laughter,
For ye must be some rich squire's son
An I am bit a shepherd's dother
I've bin tae balls baith brisk an braw
An I've bin tae London throw Balquidder
Bit the fairest lassie that my een e'er saw
She wis herdin her yowes amangst the heather
It's her I've got, it's her I've socht
An wi her I shall bide contentit
Fare thee weel fare thee weel tae yer heathery knowes
Fare thee weel fare thee weel my sang is endit.