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Sae flaxen were her ringlets, Her eyebrows of a darker hue, Bewitchingly o'erarching Twa laughing e'en o' bonie blue; Her smiling, sae wyling, Wad make a wretch forget his woe; What pleasure, what treasure, Unto these rosy lips to grow: Such was my Chloris' bonie face, When first that bonie face I saw; And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, She says, she lo'es me best of a'. Like harmony her motion, Her pretty ancle is a spy, Betraying fair proportion, Wad make a saint forget the sky: Sae warming, sae charming, Her fautless form and gracefu' air; Ilk feature - auld Nature Declar'd that she could do nae mair: Hers are the willing chains o' love, By conquering Beauty's sovereign law; And still my Chloris' dearest charm, She says, she lo'es me best of a'. Let others love the city, And gaudy shew, at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley, The dewy eve, and rising moon Fair beaming, and streaming, Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling, The amorous thrush concludes his sang; There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love, And say, thou lo'es me best of a'.