o wrang na my virginitie.”

her hair was like the links o' gowd,

her teeth were like the ivorie,

her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,

the lass that made the bed to me:

the bonie lass, &c.

her bosom was the driven snaw,

twa drifted heaps sae fair to see;

her limbs the polish'd marble stane,

the lass that made the bed to me.

i kiss'd her o'er and o'er again,

and aye she wist na what to say:

i laid her 'tween me and the wa';

the lassie thocht na lang till day.

the bonie lass, &c.

upon the morrow when we raise,

i thank'd her for her courtesie;

but aye she blush'd and aye she sigh'd,

and said, “alas, ye've ruin'd me.”

i claps'd her waist, and kiss'd her syne,

while the tear stood twinkling in her e'e;

i said, my lassie, dinna cry.

for ye aye shall make the bed to me.

the bonie lass, &c.

she took her mither's holland sheets,

an' made them a' in sarks to me;

blythe and merry may she be,

the lass that made the bed to me.

chorus—the bonie lass made the bed to me,

the braw lass made the bed to me.

i'll ne'er forget till the day i die,

the lass that made the bed to me.