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.
An thou were my ain thing,
I would lo'e thee, I would lo'e thee;
An thou were my ain thing,
How dearly would I lo'e thee!
I would clasp thee in my arms,
I'd secure thee from all harms;
For above mortal thou hast charms:
How dearly do I lo'e thee!
An thou were, &c.
Of race divine thou needs must be,
Since nothing earthly equals thee,
So I must still presumptuous be,
To show how much I lo'e thee.
An thou were, &c.
The gods one thing peculiar have,
To ruin none whom they can save;
O, for their sake, support a slave,
Who only lives to lo'e thee.
An thou were, &c.
To merit I no claim can make,
But that I lo'e, and, for your sake,
What man can more, I'll undertake,
So dearly do I lo'e thee.
An thou were, &c.
My passion, constant as the sun,
Flames stronger still, will ne'er have done,
Till fates my thread of life have spun,
Which breathing out, I'll lo'e thee.
An thou were, &c.
Like bees that suck the morning dew,
Frae flowers of sweetest scent and hue,
Sae wad I dwell upo' thy mou',
And gar the gods envy me.
An thou were, &c.
Sae lang's I had the use of light,
I'd on thy beauties feast my sight,
Syne in soft whispers through the night,
I'd tell how much I loo'd thee.
An thou were, &c.
How fair and ruddy is my Jean,
She moves a goddess o'er the green;
Were I a king, thou should be queen,
Nane but mysel' aboon thee.
An thou were, &c.
I'd grasp thee to this breast of mine,
Whilst thou, like ivy, or the vine,
Around my stronger limbs should twine,
Form'd hardy to defend thee.
An thou were, &c.
Time's on the wing, and will not stay,
In shining youth let's make our hay,
Since love admits of nae delay,
O let nae scorn undo thee.
An thou were, &c.
While love does at his altar stand,
Ha'e there's my heart, gi'e me thy hand,
And with ilk smile thou shalt command
The will of him wha loves thee.
An thou were, &c.