I am a wee weaver confined to my loom
My lover she is fair as the red rose in June
She`s loved by all young men and that does grieve me
My heart`s in the bosom of lovely Mary
As Willie and Mary rode by yon shady bower
Where Willie and Mary spent many a happy hour
Where the thrush and the blackbird do constantly call
The praises of Mary round Locherin`s shore
As Willie and Mary rode by yon river side
Said Willie to Mary Will you be my bride
This couple got married and they`ll roam no more
Their pleasures and treasures round Locherin`s shore