MS: 'My Nanie O'

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MS: 'My Nanie O'

The westlin wind blaws loud an' shilt,
The night's baith dark an' rainy, O;
But I'll get my plaid an' out I'll steal,
An' owre the hill to Nanie, O.

My Nanie's charming, sweet an' young;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O:
May ill befa' the flatt'ring tongue
That would beguile my Nanie, O.

Her face is fair, her heart is true;
As spotless as she's bonie,
The opning gowan, wet wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nanie, O.

A country lad is my degree,
An' few there be that ken me, O.
But what care I how few they be,
I'm welcome ay to Nanie, O.

My riches a 's my penny fee,
An' I maun guide it canie, O;
But warld's gear ne'er troubles me,
My thoughts are a', my Nanie, O.

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