This text comes from The Scottish Minstrel (First Series), a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Benlomond,
And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene,
While lanely I stray in the calm summer gloamin.
To muse on sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane.
How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft faulding blossom!
And sweet is the birk wi' its mantle o green;
Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom,
Is lovely young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane,
She's modest as ony, and blythe as she's bonny:
For guileless simplicity marks her its ain;
And far be the villain, divested of feeling,
Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet flow'r o' Dumblane.
Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'ening.
Thon'rt dear to the echoes of Calderwood glen:
Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning,
Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane.
How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie,
The sports o' the city seemed foolish and vain;
I ne'er saw a nymph I could ca' my dear lassie,
Till charm'd wi' sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane.
Though mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur,
Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain,
And reckon as naething the height o' its splendour,
If wanting sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane.