This text comes from The Book of Scottish Song, edited by Alexander Whitelaw, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Jenny's heart was frank and free,
And wooers she had mony, yet
Her sang was aye, Of a' I see,
Commend me to my Johnnie yet.
For, air and late, he has sic gate
To mak' a body cheerie, that
I wish to be, before I die,
His ain kind dearie yet.
Now Jenny's face was fu' o' grace,
Her shape was sma' and genty-like,
And few or nane in a' the place
Had gowd and gear more plenty, yet
Though war's alarms, and Johnnie's charms,
Had gart her aft look eerie, yet
She sung wi' glee, I hope to be
My Johnnie's ain dearie yet.
What tho' he's now gaen far awa',
Where guns and cannons rattle, yet
Unless my Johnnie chance to fa'
In some uncanny battle, yet
Till he return, my breast will burn
Wi' love that weel may cheer me yet,
For I hope to see, before I die,
His bairns to him endear me yet.