Classic Poem

The gay green leaves are dancing
A merry merry round,
The milk-white lambs are prancing
Wi' merry merry bound.
The sun is shining brichtly
On mountain, tree, and tower,
And my fond heart leaps lichtly,
I've named my bridal hour.

Yet wherefore should I marry,
When I'm wi' joy sae fu',
My wee breast canna carry
Mair than it feels enow?
My Willie, fond and pressing,
Keeps by me a' the day,
An' whaten higher blessing
Could ony lassie hae?

We're to be cried neist Sunday,
Losh! how the folk will stare;
And buckled on the Monday,
I'll be my ain nae mair!
But nane the links shall sever
That's twined that happy day,
For I'll be Willie's ever,
And he'll be mine for aye.