Wandering through the woods in spring,
Thus a weel kent voice did sing,
â€œWitherâ€™d age nae joys can bring,
Â Â Â Â Â Iâ€™ll cowe the nettle early.â€
â€œWha for walth wad ane thatâ€™s auld
In their youthfuâ€™ arms enfauld?
O theyâ€™re gruesome, rough, anâ€™ cauld.
Â Â Â Â Â I'll cowe the nettle early.â€
â€œWhen in love weâ€™re mim anâ€™ meek,
Unco shy anâ€™ laith to speak,
But the blush that tints our cheek,
Â Â Â Â Â Says cowe the nettle early.â€
Thus my lassie to herselâ€™'
Liltinâ€™ made my bosom swell;
Rin anâ€™ ring the parish bell,
Â Â Â Â Â Weâ€™ll cowe the nettle early.
Iâ€™ve been warmâ€™d with ruddy wineâ€”
Dreamt of calling riches mine,
Thereâ€™s a pleasure more divine,
Â Â Â Â Â I'll cowe the nettle early.