When o'er the hill the Eastern star Tells bughtin' time is near, my jo And owsen frae the furrowed field Return sae dowf and weary-o Down by the burn the birken buds With dew are hanging near, my jo I'll meet thee on the lea rig My aen kind dearie-o At midnight hour in mirkest glen I'd rove and ne'er be weary-o If through the glen I gae to thee My aen kind dearie-o Although the night were ne'er so wild And I were ne'er so weary-o I'll meet thee on the lea rig My aen kind dearie-oh The hunter loves the morning sun To rouse the mountain deer, my jo At noon the fisher takes the glen Adoon the burn to steer, my jo Give me the hour of gloaming gray It maks my heart sae cheery-oh To meet thee on the lea rig My aen kind dearie-oh To meet thee on the lea rig My aen kind dearie-oh