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.
Auld Rob, the laird o' muckle land,
To woo me was na very blate,
But spite o' a' his gear he fand
He came to woo a day owre late.
A lad sae blythe, sae fu' o' glee,
My heart did never ken,
And nane can gi'e sic joy to me
As Jamie o' the glen.
My minnie grat like daft, and rair'd,
To gar me wi' her will comply,
But still I wadna ha'e the laird,
Wi' a' his ousen, sheep, and kye.
A lad sae blythe, &c.
Ah, what are silks and satins braw?
What's a' his warldly gear to me?
They're daft that cast themsel's awa',
Where nae content or love can be.
A lad sae blythe, &c.
I cou'dna bide the silly clash
Came hourly frae the gawky laird!
And sae, to stop his gab and fash,
Wi' Jamie to the kirk repair'd.
A lad sae blythe, &c.
Now ilka summer's day sae lang,
And winter's clad wi' frost and snaw,
A tunefu' lilt and bonnie sang
Aye keep dull care and strife awa'.
A lad sae blythe, &c.