1.
In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
And proper young lasses and a', man:
But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals?
They carry the gree frae them a', man.
2.
Their father's a laird, and weel he can spare't:
Braid money to tocher them a', man;
To proper young men, he'll clink in the hand
Gowd guineas a hunder or twa, man.
3.
There's ane they ca' Jean, I'll warrant ye've seen
As bonie a lass or as braw, man;
But for sense and guid taste she'll vie wi' the best,
And a conduct that beautifies a', man.
4.
The charms o' the min', the langer they shine
The mair admiration they draw, man;
While peaches and cherries, and roses and lilies,
They fade and they wither awa, man.
5.
If ye be for Miss Jean, tak this frae a frien',
A hint o' a rival or twa, man:
The Laird o' Blackbyre wad gang through the fire,
If that wad entice her awa, man.
6.
The Laird o' Braehead has been on his speed
For mair than a towmond or twa, man:
The Laird o' the Ford will straught on a board,
If he canna get her at a', man.
7.
Then Anna comes in, the pride o' her kin,
The boast of our bachelors a', man:
Sae sonsy and sweet, sae fully complete,
She steals our affection awa, man.
8.
If I should detail the pick and the wale
O' lasses that live here awa, man,
The faut wad be mine, if they didna shine
The sweetest and best o' them a', man.
9.
I lo'e her mysel, but darena weel tell,
My poverty keeps me in awe, man;
For making o' rhymes, and working at times,
Does little or naething at a', man.
10.
Yet I wadna choose to let her refuse
Nor hae't in her power to say na, man:
For though I be poor, unnoticed, obscure,
My stomach's as proud as them a', man.
11.
Though I canna ride in well-booted pride,
And flee o'er the hills like a craw, man.
I can haud up my head wi' the best o' the breed,
Though fluttering ever so braw, man.
12.
My coat and my vest, they are Scotch o' the best;
O' pairs o' guid breeks I hae twa, man,
And stockings and pumps to put on my stumps,
And ne'er a wrang steek in them a', man.
13.
My sarks they are few, but five o' them new -
Twal' hundred, as white as the snaw, man!
A ten-shillings hat, a Holland cravat -
There are no monie Poets sae braw, man!
14.
I never had frien's weel stockit in means,
To leave me a hundred or twa, man;
Nae weel-tocher'd aunts, to wait on their drants
And wish them in hell for it a', man.
15.
I never was cannie for hoarding o' money,
Or claughtin't together at a', man;
I've little to spend and naething to lend,
But devil a shilling I awe, man.

In Tarbolton, you know, there are proper young men,
And proper young lasses and all, man:
But know you the Ronalds that live in the Bennals?
They carry the first place from them all, man.

Their father's a laird, and well he can spare it:
Broad money to dowry them all, man;
To proper young men, he will chink in the hand
Gold guineas a hundred or two, man.

here is one they call Jean, I will warrant you have seen
As lovely a girl or as well dressed, man;
But for sense and good taste she will vie with the best,
And a conduct that beautifies all, man.

The charms of the mind, the longer they shine
The more admiration they draw, man;
While peaches and cherries, and roses and lilies,
They fade and they wither away, man.

If you be for Miss Jean, take this from a friend,
A hint of a rival or two, man:
The Laird of Blackbyre would go through the fire,
If that would entice her away, man.

The Laird of Braehead has been on his speed
For more than a twelve-month or two, man:
The Laird of the Ford will stretch on a board,
If he cannot get her at all, man.

Then Anna comes in, the pride of her kin,
The boast of our bachelors all, man:
So pleasant and sweet, so fully complete,
She steals our affection away, man.

If I should detail the pick and the choice
Of lasses that live here away (in the area), man,
The fault would be mine, if they did not shine
The sweetest and best of them all, man.

I loved her myself, but dare not well tell,
My poverty keeps me in awe, man;
For making of rhymes, and working at times,
Does little or nothing at all, man.

Yet I would not choose to let her refuse
Nor have it in her power to say no, man:
For though I be poor, unnoticed, obscure,
My stomach is as proud as them all, man.

Though I cannot ride in well-booted pride,
And fly over the hills like a crow, man.
I can hold up my head with the best of the breed,
Though fluttering ever so well, man.

My coat and my vest, they are Scotch of the best;
Of pairs of good trousers I have two, man,
And stockings and pumps to put on my stumps (legs),
And never a wrong stitch in them all, man.

My shirts they are few, but five of them new -
welve hundred count linen, as white as the snow, man!
A ten-shillings hat, a Holland cravat -
There are not many Poets so well dressed, man!

I never had friends well stocked in means,
To leave me a hundred or two, man;
No well dowered aunts, to wait on their tedious talk
And wish them in hell for it all, man.

I never was careful for hoarding of money,
Or grasping it together at all, man;
I have little to spend and nothing to lend,
But devil a shilling I owe, man.