Cauld winter was howlin' o'er moor and o'er mountain
And wild was the surge of the dark rolling sea,
When I met about daybreak a bonnie young lassie,
Wha asked me the road and the miles to Dundee.
Says I 'My young lassie, I canna' weel tell ye,
The road and the distance I canna' weel gie,
But if you'll permit me tae gang a wee bittie,
I'll show you the road and the miles to Dundee.'
At once she consented, and gave me her arm,
Ne'er a word I did speir wha the lassie might be:
She appeared like an angel in feature and form,
As she walked by my side on the road to Dundee.
At length wi' the Howe o' Strathmartine behind us,
And the spires o' the toon in full view we could see;
She said, 'Gentle sir, I can never forget ye
For showing me so far on the road to Dundee.
This ring and this purse take to prove I am grateful,
And some simple token I trust ye'11 gie me,
And in times to come I'll remember the laddie
That showed me the road and the miles to Dundee.'
I took the gowd pin from the scarf on my bosom,
And said, 'Keep ye this in remembrance o' me',
Then bravely I kissed the sweet lips o' the lassie
Ere I parted wi' her on the road to Dundee.
So here's to the lassie—I ne'er can forget her—
And ilka young laddie that's listening tae me;
And never be sweer to convoy a young lassie,
Though it's only to show her the road to Dundee.