Row, Kello, row frae rocky linns,
An' through amang thy grassy braes,
Where gowans grow an' hawthorns blaw,
An' sunshine sleeps on summer days.
Slip saftly by the quarry howm,
Where hingin' hazels hap thy tides;
Then murmur through aneath the brig,
An' by the cot where Annie bides.
Row, Kello, row to where the Nith
Half waits to clasp thy floods sae clear,
But leave ahin' the happy soun'
That Annie still delights to hear.
She walks by thee when gloamin' dims
An' darkens doon the vocal glen,
But what her ain sweet thochts can be
Nane but hersel' an' thee may ken.
Row, Kello, row when summer flings
A wealth o' licht the hills alang,
An' row when autumn's yellow han'
Shakes doon the nits the leaves amang.
An' row when winter's rouky breath
Strips a' the cleedin' frae the tree,
But leave to Annie still the thochts
At gloamin' when she walks by thee.