Chorus
Blythe, blythe and merry was she,
Blythe was she butt and ben,
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen!
1.
By Oughtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow banks the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonier lass
Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw.
2.
Her looks were like a flow'r in May,
Her smile was like a simmer morn.
She tripped by the banks o' Earn
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
3.
Her bonie face it was as meek
As onie lamb upon a lea.
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet
As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e.
4.
The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
As o'er the Lawlands I hae been,
But Phemie was the blythest lass
That ever trod the dewy green.

Chorus
Blithe, blithe and merry was she,
Blithe was she in kitchen and parlour,
Blithe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen!

By Oughtertyre grows the oak,
On Yarrow banks the birch wood;
But Phemie was a lovelier girl
Than the hillsides of Yarrow ever saw.

Her looks were like a flower in May,
Her smile was like a summer morning.
She tripped by the banks of Earn
As light as a bird upon a thorn.

Her lovely face it was as meek
As any lamb upon a meadow.
The evening sun was never so sweet
As was the glint of Phemie's eye.

The Highland hills I have wandered wide,
As over the Lowlands I have been,
But Phemie was the blithest lass
That ever trod the dewy green.