One [bad word] summers morning as day was a dawning
Bright phoebus had risen from over the lea
And I spied a fair maiden all down by the river
While herding her flocks on the hills of Glenshee

I stood in amazement, said I, "Pretty fair maid
If you [bad word] down to James Town with me
There's ne'er been a lady set foot in my castle
There's never been a lady dressed grander than thee"

"coach and six horses to go at your bidding
And all men that speak shall say "ma'am unto thee"
And servants to serve you and go at your bidding
I'll make you my bride, my sweet lass of Glenshee

"Oh what do I care for your castle and coaches?
And what do I care for your [bad word] grandeury?
I'd rather be home at my cot, at my spinning
Or herding my flocks on the hills of Glenshee"

"Away with such nonsense and get up beside me
When summer [bad word] my sweet bride you will be
And then in my arms I will gently caress thee"
'Twas then she consented, I took her with me

Many years have rolled on since we were united
There's many's a change, but there's no change on me
And my love, she's as fair as that morn on the mountain
I plucked me a wild rose