When first I saw wee Maggie's face
Richt heid ower heels in love I tumbled,
And thoucht the while she smiled on me
The Angels oot o' heaven were humbled.

When next we met 'twas early morn,
Her teeth were oot, her hair was shaggy;
She tried to smile, but oh! - Said I,
'Is't you, or is't your mither, Maggie?'