The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Ben Lomond
                                           And left the red clouds to reside o'er the scene
                                         While lanely I stray in the calm simmer gloamin'
                                          To muse on sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane.
                                         How sweet is the brier wi' its saft faulding blossom
                                            And sweet is the birk wi' its mantle o' green
                                           But sweeter and fairer and dear to this bosom
                                         Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane.
                                        Is charming young Jessie, is charming young Jessie
                                         Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane.

                                          She's modest as on-y and blythe as she's bonnie
                                            For guileless simplicity makes her its aim
                                              And far be the villain, divested of feeling
                                       Wha'd blight in its bloom, the sweet flow'r of Dunblane.
                                         Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the evening
                                           Thour't dear to the echoes of Calderwood glen
                                          Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning
                                         Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane.
                                        Is charming young Jessie, is charming young Jessie
                                         Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane.

                                           How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie
                                           The sports o' the city seem'd foolish and vain
                                           I ne'er saw a nymph I would ca' my dear lassie
                                        Till charm'd wi' sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dublane.
                                           Tho' mine were the station of liftiest grandeur
                                             Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain
                                        And reckon as naething, the height of its splendour
                                           If wanting sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane
                                          If wanting sweet Jessie, if wanting sweet Jessie
                                          If wanting sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane.