The wee Fairy Princess

T’was on a braw, bricht, Moonlicht nicht,

Where there I met this lassie,

Such a bonnie wee lass I ne’er had seen,

With her twinkling eyes, so sassy!

The dew was on the heather,

The moon high over the glen,

I met her there, near Inverness,

But we’d never meet there again,

She kissed me once in the moonlicht,

It was there she stole my heart,

For she was a fairy princess,

Who knew, we soon would part,

Though it seemed a novel invention,

That I might propose to her,

I soon made clear my intention,

Whispered in a sweet demure,

But my bonnie wee fairy princess,

Who with my whole heart I desired,

Left me there in the dewy heather,

Lovelorn, heartbroken and tired,

Me wee tartan kilt I treasure,

A plate of piping haggis I adore,

But my bonnie wee fairy,

In the bricht, Moonlicht nicht,

Is lost to me, ...evermore.

(c) BAM