Comin' O'er the Hills o' Coupar

Donald Brodie met a lass, Comin' o'er the hills o' Coupar, Donald wi' his Highland hand Graipit a' the bits about her. Comin' o'er the hills o' Coupar, Comin' o'er the hills o' Coupar, Donald in a sudden wrath He ran his Highland durk into her, Weel I wat she was a quine, Wad made a body's mouth to water; Our Mess John, wi's auld grey pow, His haly lips wad licket at her. Up she started in a fright, Thro' the braes what she could bicker: Let her gang, quo' Donald, now For in him's nerse my shot is sicker. Kate Mackie cam frae Parlon craigs, The road was foul twixt that an' Couper; She shaw'd a pair o' handsome lets, When Highland Donald he o'ertook her. Comin' o'er the moor o' Coupar, Comin' o'er the moor o' Coupar, Donald fell in love wi' her An' row'd his Highland plaid about her. They took them to the Logan steps An' set them down to rest thegither, Donald laid her on her back An' fir'd a Highland pistol at her. Lochleven Castle heard the rair, An' Falkland-house the echo sounded; Highland Donald gae a stare, The lassie sigh'd, but was nae wounded.